Kristine Kochanski: The Last Human
by aeronq
Summary: During one of the many, empty days in the Tank, Kochanski talks to Kryten about her experiences as the last woman alive. Reflects canon from 'The End' onwards.
1. Chapter 1

**I am writing this fic because Kochanski and her back-story was a part of the canon and fandom that I felt had been neglected to a degree. I know there are good reasons for this; a canon two-dimensional Mary Sue character is only to be expected from a male writing team and at the end of the day; she's no Rimmer/Lister. But I have persevered and given it a go. **

**The plot bunny of epiphany jumped on me during a rewatch of series 7, and in particular Ouroboros. A dead Dave, a golden Kryten and a silent Cat were too good an enigma to pass up.**

**I have set this fic just after the brilliant fic written by the missus (cazflibs) "Hidden Depths".  
**

* * *

There were a lot of reasons that prisons were not suitable places for a young lady to be, reasoned Kochanski as she handed in her CANARIES uniform and equipment to the vaguely androgynous guard at the holding area of the Women's Wing of the Tank. She had been keeping a diary in the many, many empty hours that she was paying at the Space Corps pleasure. She had a vague hope that it would be the source of a great many anecdotes in the Officer's Club once all this had blown over. So far though, tales of collecting the evening meal's custard, letting it brew for a week and using the vile smelling mixture as an incredibly powerful hair removal cream was something she wasn't sure she wanted to share with the pervy likes of Todhunter.

Pulling on the starchy purple jumpsuit, Kochanski once again became JMCRD435 and the guilty thought once again skidded across her mind that at least her parents weren't alive to feel the disgrace of their daughter becoming a criminal. She supposed that she was more of a political prisoner; being held because she and her crewmates had knowledge that could destabilise the entire ship, but that probably wouldn't have mattered to her Father. She remembered how upset he was when he found out her Mother's great great great Grandmother's cousin had been arrested and held for three hours because she looked a bit like Emmeline Pankhurst.

The whirring of servos and the clanking of metallic feet clomping on the metal decking in the changing area announced the arrival of her cellmate. His massive frame, the strange peachy colour of a game show host who has been kept in a dark cellar for too long, was being strangely demure. He shuffled in shiftily, covering his non-existent genitals in a defensive gesture he had picked up when the girls had forcibly re-programmed him. Across the room, Jennifer "Slasher" Williams caught his eye and dragged a thumb across her throat in a gesture of calculated malevolence. Kochanski had mixed feelings about this. There was a certain level of protectiveness she felt for her crewmate. But the fact that the third week of Krytie TV's broadcast had been advertised in the Men's Wing on a huge poster declaring it "Princess Krissie and Jenny the Slasher: Red Hot Girl-on-Girl Soaping" with a picture taken in the communal showers meant that Kochanski felt Jennifer was pretty justified in her rage.

Kryten sidled up to Kochanski and with mechanical efficiency pulled on his large jumpsuit. They both finished lacing their boots at the same time with no words exchanged. They had learned the hard way in their early days that the way to survive in the Tank was to keep your head down and your mouth shut.

They finished dressing and went through the process of being logged, sorted and escorted to their cell. It was only when the heavy door wheeled shut that Kryten burst into a huge grin and spoke to Kochanski.

"Well Ma'am, I must say that it's good to be back."

Kochanski stared incredulously at the mechanoid as he settled down at the table in their quarters and started to fill in the twenty-five-page requisition form, requesting more starch for the laundry.

"Good to be back? We are stuck in one of the most desperate hellholes in space. In Officer Cadet School there were legends about the inmates who had served time in these places. There was a man from Liverpool called Charles Keenan who was put in the Tank in my reality and do you know what he did?"

"I'm pretty sure that he ate his wife, Ma'am"

Kochanski looked strangely at Kryten who hadn't looked up.

"Have I told you this story already?"

"Oh no, he was a school chum of Mr. Lister"

Kochanski shuddered. "Dave never told me that. I mean, I knew his school was rough but he didn't talk about it much with me. I thought he just meant that there was a lot of horseplay from some of the other boys. I never thought that he was buddies with a degenerate, sociopathic cannibal."

Kryten did look up at this comment and fixed the young lady with a stare.

"Miss Kochanski ma'am, I assure you that Mr. Lister knew the gentleman you refer to when he was seven years old. And anyway, I'm sure eating one person is hardly sociopathic…"

"Why are you doing this Kryten?"

"What am I doing Ma'am?"

"Why do you have to be so passive-aggressive? It's like sharing a cell with a moody teenager."

Kochanski took the chair opposite Kryten and stared at him over steepled fingers.

"I think we should have a talk."

Kryten pulled a face; a grotesque parody of a man listening to the sound of a high speed drill going through a stack of glass sheets or an album by Paris Hilton.

"I'm serious Kryten. Back there on the planet we were really coming together as a team. We worked together against the guards, got the CANARIES together and found the boys. Why is it that as soon as we are not in mortal peril you go back to this petty hatred of me?"

Kryten had the presence of mind to look offended but still was less than convincing.

"Ma'am, I'm not capable of hating anyone. I am merely programmed to serve."

"Damnit Kryten, stop doing that! This is what I was talking about, passive aggressive. If it would do anything to you I would choke you. We have to spend at least another year and a half together in this damn room, why can't we be at least a little civil to each other?"

"I am being perfectly civil. What you seem to want is for us to be chummy. You want to come running to complain to me about how difficult it all is and help comb your hair. 'Ooo, Kryten it just won't go. Feed me cottage cheese and make it all better' Well, I'm afraid that that is something I'm not willing to do."

Kryten carried on filling in the forms as Kochanski put her head in her hands and massaged her temples.

"I'm not trying to make you into my Kryten, I just want to be able to have a normal conversation with my cellmate without them making snide comments and undermining …."

"_My Kryten_, Ma'am?"

Kochanski's fingers slowed and she looked up into Kryten's face, with its slightly twitchy left optical sensor.

"Of course I didn't mean that I wanted to own you, far from it. I just meant the Kryten from my reality was very much…"

Kryten stood. "No need to elaborate Ma'am, I can conjecture precisely what _your Kryten_ was like Ma'am."

Kochanski tried desperately to splutter out the words that would make this conversation all better. Officer training did cover dealing with disgruntled staff under her command but there were no lessons on the best ways to handle relationships with a highly intelligent but incredibly irrational, mother-hen-clucking robot. So she went for her standard approach.

"Why do you hate me Kryten?"

Kryten leant down, placing his hands on the table and looked her in the eyes.

"I do not hate you Ma'am. I tolerate you. At times I even respect and admire you. It is just that Mr. Lister is in love with a woman that is not right for him. I do what I can to convince him that she is not right, that she cannot possibly live up to his expectations and that she will hurt him more than he can possibly imagine. He will not listen. I am now forced by the fact that this backwards society seems to be convinced that I am female due to my lack of some, quite frankly disgusting sexual organs, to spend every moment with this woman. To live day in day out with her, knowing full well that there is no way I can stop him from hurtling down the soap-sud-slalom to his ultimate rejection by a woman he has worshipped for near on a decade. "

Kochanski stood and matched the mechanoid, glare for glare. "I didn't ask Dave to be obsessed with me. I'm not here to take him away from you. Whatever weird relationship you have with him, leave me out of it. He's a mate; he's completely different to the soul mate and lover I left behind. He's a bad copy, a curry smeared fun-house mirror image of the man I love."

Kryten's eyes widened with shock. "You're lying."

Kochanski shook her head. "No honestly, he's just a mate…"

"You don't love him"

"That's what I mean, he's just a mate."

"Mr. Cat and Kryten had to hold him back from leaping into the blank nothingness of none-space after you fell and you don't love him."

"What do you mean? He ran off with you guys to get that crossbow, which the bastard then shot me in the..…"

She tailed off, realising the significance of what Kryten was saying. The mechanoid had picked up what she was saying about _her_ Dave. She looked down, ashamed to be caught out in a lie. It didn't matter that she had been trying to convince herself that it was the truth for years.

"Dave is a nice guy. We were the only humans left in the entire Universe and he was sensitive and caring and he was there for me when I needed him the most. When he became hard-light, we decided that we…."

Kochanski trailed off, watching Kryten as he slowly sat down, staring off into the distance. The whirring as his CPU was digesting this information was audible to her on the other side of the table. She sat with him and waited, looking at his rubbery head, the mouth open and the eyes unfocused. Uncomfortable, she broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't straight with you Kryten but I wasn't even sure I felt this way myself until recently. Prison gives you plenty of time to reflect on everything you've done wrong in the past and I guess I owe you an explanation. When I was revived from stasis, everybody was dead. Everybody. I was quite probably the last person alive anywhere. Holly's mind had degenerated from spending millions of years alone in deep space. He did what he could to help me. He brought back someone to keep me sane…."


	2. Chapter 2

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The hatch opened on the stasis pod, letting in a rush of air. Kochanski stepped forward and looked for where Todhunter had been standing just a few seconds ago. Nothing but dark grey corridor.

What the hell was going on? Why were only half the lights on? There was something else that was setting her nerves on edge but she couldn't work out what it was.

"Good morning, Kristine. It is now safe for you to emerge from stasis. Please proceed to the Drive Room for debriefing."

"Thank you, Holly"

She started to make her way along the corridor before a thought hit her. Even down here where the stasis booths were housed there were always people and skutters charging around on maintenance or security details or trying to sneak supplies or contraband in one of the thousands of hiding places a five-mile long ship can hold. There was none of the bustle that should have been here, endemic across the whole ship because of too many people in too small a space with nowhere to go

"Holly, where is everybody?"

"Oh, they're dead."

"Who's dead Holly?"

"Everybody."

"Everybody?"

"Yes, everybody is dead Kristine."

Kochanski stopped, standing alone in the dull gray corridor, thinking furiously.

"How?"

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kochanski never made it as far as the Drive Room. Holly had explained how the drive plate was inefficiently repaired and how a chain reaction followed, the fail-safes simultaneously failing and letting a massive neutron explosion rip apart anything organic on the habitation levels. Her brain tuned out the sound of his voice as he began to explain how he had turned the ship away from anywhere remotely habitable and headed out into deep space. She turned and ran.

It was a mad rush, darting along empty corridors filled only with the clanging of her boots on the decking. She rushed headlong to the rooms of all her friends, all of the people she had known and lived and worked alongside for the last few months looking for God knows what. Somewhere along the line, her common sense disappeared and she started calling out, looking for people part of her knew wouldn't hear and could never answer.

Holly appeared at screens, projected onto corridor walls, following her wherever she ran. She saw his lips move but he could have been speaking Ancient Greek. Well, not that because Kochanski had done one of her many Classical History dissertations on the use of the verb forms in Platonic discourses in the original Republic. All of the words he was saying might well have been in an obscure foreign language that Kochanski _didn't_ know. Within the flow of incomprehensible spiel, she did catch a snippet.

"Sorry Holly, what was that last bit?"

"I've put everything perishable into storage but some of the supplies have still deteriorated somehow. I didn't think you'd get-"

"I mean that bit about how long I've been in Stasis."

"Ah yes, that was three million years."

"Right, got you"

Kochanski hadn't at all and just kept running.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kochanski awoke exhausted, a fist-sized knot of pain in her back from lying on the bare metal of the bunk.

Anything vaguely perishable or organic had been put into storage thousands of millennia ago. This included fabric, paper, and a lot of the plastic. Most of the air had even been allowed to escape, an effort to preserve the integrity of the ship by keeping it in a vacuum, anything Holly could think of to get the ship and its contents to survive. A craft that should have been serviced every five years if it travelled within designated speeds needed all the help it could get if it was going to miss out on 600,000 odd MOT appointments and spend a lot of that time accelerating. Holly had a funny feeling that there was something intrinsically wrong with the speed they were going but he thought maybe if he ignored it and kept up the commands he had given himself before the degeneration of his circuits that it would all pan out alright eventually.

Holly had got the last few skutters who had any working parts at all to repair the others, and this battered army of barely functioning robots had prepared a small corner of the habitation level of the ship for Kochanski to occupy. Holly hadn't counted on her running around in a mad panic as soon as she was out of her pod and ending up on the wrong sleeping level. Any reminders that she needed to move because he had prepared a room for her that didn't have too much radioactive corpse-dust had just brought on floods of tears, so he had been forced to leave her to it.

Which is why Kochanski was in a bare metal room with bare metal furnishings, a screwed up back, no idea of the time and ravenous enough to eat one of Lister's curries.

Lister. She hadn't thought about him for a long time. She had no idea how long she had been weeping. After the rush of energy, she had collapsed in a heap in one of the sleeping quarters and couldn't stop sobbing. Her usual ways of snapping herself out of a good blub didn't work, there was no one to see or hear her and there was no one to hold her and tell her it would be all ok. There was no one. Anywhere. Eventually she had just run out of whatever it was that had been keeping her going and fallen into a sleep filled with nightmares of falling down dark wells.

"You awake?"

Holly's voice broke the gloomy train of her thoughts.

"What time is it Holly?"

There was a pause as Holly considered the question. "Ummm, I've sort of lost track. I think it's a Thursday. March? Or May? Those M's, I could never really decide between-"

"What time in the day, Holly?"

"Oh, call it 2ish? I can get a skutter to bring you some lunch if you want..."

Kochanski tuned out the sound of Holly talking about skutters, lunch and anything else and rolled over to stare at the wall. She had been surrounded by people her entire life, a privileged upbringing followed by a successful career living in cities across the solar system and on space ships forging their way across space. Now she was quite probably the last person alive anywhere and all she had to look forward to was an eternity on a massive, ugly ship barely holding together with a crew of broken robots and a computer who previously had an IQ of 6000 but now had forgotten what month it was.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Kochanski ignored it, lost in her gloom. And then the last voice she ever expected to hear again spoke.

"Um, hi. Long time no see."

Kochanski rolled over to see a short dreadlocked man, his ship issue blue technician's uniform already untucked and as creased if it had been kept screwed up at the bottom of a damp laundry bin for about three months. He looked lost and tired but incredibly happy as she sat up and smiled.

"Dave, what the hell is going on?"

He tapped the two-inch high metallic looking "H" decorating his forehead.

"Holly has told me that I copped it. Guess I don't need to worry about all me credit card bills anymore."

Kochanski winced at the terrible joke and stood, looking him up and down. The silence dragged on as they both just looked at each other.

"So you're dead then? What is it like? Oh God, that was so insensitive. I'm so sorry, are you-"

Lister laughed, the first happy sound Kochanski had heard in what felt like days.

"Its fine Krissie, its just weird is all. I'm pretty sure I'm just like normal, only…"

Lister raised his hand and tried to brush a bit of hair out of Kochanski's eyes. She flinched as his hand passed through her face.

"See? Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya. I can't touch nothin. Are you cold?"

Kochanski tucked the stray hair behind her ear and looked puzzled.

"Well, if it is I can't feel it" said Lister, "Tell you what though, I could murder a fag."

Kochanski nervous laugh was interrupted by the appearance of Holly on the mirror.

"Sorry to gooseberry in dudes, but there's a life form wandering around on deck 457. I think it might be worth a butcher's."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kochanski and Lister entered the corridor as stealthily as possible, Lister actually making no noise and Kochanski using her experience of creeping between dorms in Cyberschool.

You always got caught doing anything against the rules at Cyberschool. After all, it was populated by unsleeping perfect computer generated teachers who always knew when you were out of bed or sneaking across the fields. However, they all had preset parameters as to when they actually detected and punished you for the transgressions of the school rules. The creators and clients for the Cyberschool programme knew that a certain amount of flexibility of the rules built character in the same way that freezing showers, birchings and P.E lessons in horizontal sleet built character. So along with Ancient Greek, Latin and Netball was learning to sneak to other girl's dorms and have pillow fights.

Ahead of them, Kochanski and Lister could hear a clattering sound. It was coming from the sleeping quarters that Holly had set aside in an uncontaminated part of the ship.

Kochanski forced down the fear that was gripping her. Typical. Half an hour ago she thought she was the last living thing in several thousand light years if not the universe. Now she was sneaking down a corridor with her dead Liverpudlian ex-boyfriend moving towards a large, unknown life form that was at this moment most likely going through her things.

They both reached the doorway of the room and peered around.

The room was empty. In the middle of the room, the metal table held an opened storage crate, the clothes it must have contained on the table and chairs. Maybe they had caught the maintenance robots on a break but then again, the skutters wouldn't have bothered folding the shirts up.

Kochanski was furiously planning the best way to approach when Lister strode into the room. Before she had a chance to grab him back and pound some sense into him, he wandered up to the table and was looking in the box.

Bursting from the lockers by the door was a red, man-sized blur. Leaping through the startled Lister, he landed, rolled and somehow came up facing the way he had come, a comb pointed at Lister's chest like a rapier.

The man, if you could call him that, was immaculately dressed in a frock coat, lace spilling from the cuffs. His strangeness was in the little details. Quite apart from the fact he was dressed a few hundred years out of date he had pointed fangs that he was now revealing in a snarl.

Lister spread his hands wide in the international gesture of 'I'm unarmed, please for the love of God don't kill me'

"Alright mate, we don't want any trouble..."

The man's comb didn't waver a millimetre as he spoke to himself.

"I see that this man aims to somehow intimidate me, hoping to drive me away from this territory that I have laid claim to. I shall not present him with an opportunity and shall instead seek to scare him off by putting on a show of force."

This curious monologue delivered, the man stretched out, spreading his arms wide and standing on tip-toe, a warning yowling noise building in the back of his throat.

Lister backed off a couple of steps and Kochanski took the opportunity to step in.

"We're sorry to bother you, we can come back later if-"

The man's eyes flicked to hers, his pupils dilating wide leaving only a thin ring of brown. He put down his arms and instead flexed his muscles, preening and showing off his physique. He grinned widely and turned to Lister who was watching this display dumbfounded.

"Good sir, I must insist that you introduce me to the curious young lady. Forgive me my earlier rudeness, I take it you are her chaperone?"

Kochanski stared at the man, trying to work out if she had actually woken up or if this entire afternoon was just a long stasis-related hallucination. She found that in her experience, chatting to dead ex-boyfriends and Regency period gentlemen Vampires screamed "Hallucination!" a mile off.

"Holly? Who the hell is this?"

Holly's face appeared on the mirror.

"Before the accident you hid a pregnant black cat in your room on board where it then escaped into-"

"She was barely a kitten! How was she pregnant?"

Lister did his best to not look as guilty as the man behind the grassy knoll by suddenly checking to see if his nails were clean.

"Lister, what did you do?"

Lister looked up. "What? I mean, I thought she must have been lonely in that little room. I took her down with me when I went on planet leave on Titan. I let her run about in the tap room of the Hacienda for a few hours before they opened proper. How the smeg was I to know that the Landlord had that big bastard of a Tom-"

"I can't believe you Lister, you got my barely legal kitten knocked up by some bloody stray in the back room of an astro's drinking pit?"

"I wouldn't call her barely legal-"

"The cat was safely sealed in the cargo hold when the radiation hit." Holly continued, "She and her descendents evolved over three million years into the creature you see before you here."

The creature in question was currently examining itself in a miniature golden hand mirror. Lister looked at the creature with a mixture of awe and trepidation and extended a hand for it to shake.

"Hello, Cat?"

The Cat went to grab the proffered hand before catching sight of his coat.

"Dear Lord, a crease!"

Pulling out a miniature iron from a pocket in the frock coat he pressed it to his sleeve.

The Cat suitably distracted, Lister turned to Kochanski. "So what now? Shall we head back to Earth?"

Kochanski shook her head. "There's no way we could make it back. I've been thinking about this and I'm shocked that the ship has stayed together as long as it has. We have absolutely no idea where we are, Holly and I wouldn't have the first clue about how to navigate the thousands of light years back. What's a way to put it you would understand? It's like trying to go from New York to Liverpool riding a rusty unicycle over broken glass whilst blindfolded. You're going to have no idea where you're going, how long it would take or even if it's possible to go more than ten metres without falling off and dying."

Lister's face fell. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Kochanski stood silent, lost in thought. Her gaze fell on the stacks of boxes. Her whole life was in there, ready to be unpacked. Was there any point for any of it to be brought out of Stasis in the first place, for her to be out? They had nowhere to go, no mission, nothing to do. She looked at the Cat, trimming his nails with utmost care. Suddenly she smiled.

"Holly, set a course"

Holly and Lister looked puzzled.

"Where to?"

She grinned wider, "Anywhere. Now, lets sort out this mess and we can start to work out - Cat, what the hell are you doing with my bra?"


	3. Chapter 3

Kryten pulled a silvery kettle from a hiding place behind one of the floor to ceiling pipes and wandered over to the sink. It was one of the only contraband items that Kochanski had convinced him to keep after the cell had been stripped of his ill-gotten valuables. It almost drove his guilt chip into meltdown to keep anything he had bought with the exploitation of his clueless cell-sisters. It had taken a lot of cajoling from Kochanski for him to stop trying to drown himself in the tiny sink in their cell when she suggested that they hang on to the kettle, but eventually he agreed to keep it back for emergencies.

If a _talk _didn't count, then what did?

He pulled back the sleeve of his prison-issue jumpsuit and opened a maintenance panel in his wrist. Warning messages scrolled down his field of vision in big, glowing angry red letters and a siren only he could hear whined. He concentrated and they dimmed and then stopped. Placing the kettle on his outstretched palm, he gingerly fiddled with his right nipple nut. At the table, Kochanski tactfully looked away.

There were some advantages of picking apart your programming, Kryten mused. He had invalidated his guarantees but then again, having been operational for most of human existence, it stood to reason that anything that could go wrong with him could not be fixed by getting Divadroid on the phone. His unerring sense of rightness and place within the Universe had also gone, leaving him some of the less desirable human traits of doubt, disbelief and loss of purpose. He had, however, gained the ability to lie, cheat, steal and boil water by venting the heat his body generated into his hands and thereby boil a mid-sized kettle. So it all balanced out in the end.

Kochanski looked tired but grateful as he mixed her up an instant hot chocolate in a battered metal mug and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry there are no marshmallows Ma'am but I'm not certain that there are any left in the -"

"It's lovely Kryten. Thank you."

She sipped hot chocolate and looked slightly less miserable. Dredging up the memories of the loss of your species could not have been pleasant for her and Kryten understood that. Any conversations on Starbug that had wandered onto the subject of the early times on Red Dwarf had always silenced Mr. Lister. Kryten had longed to understand why, after all, he may have lost everything and everyone he had ever known and loved but he had always had the company and consolation of Mr. Rimmer -

Actually, that explained a lot.

"If I may be so bold Ma'am, why is it that you were less than pleased to see Mr. Lister? I was of the understanding that you had been -"

"I wasn't not pleased to see him, Kryten. I was very pleased. I thought I was on my own forever and I think…. I was more surprised than anything else. I didn't know why Holly had revived _him_ and not one of the hundreds of other people on board. The Captain or … well anyone."

Kryten sat at the table opposite her with his hand held to one side, allowing it to cool. "_Our_ Holly brought back Mr. Rimmer in order to keep Mr. Lister sane. The fact that Mr. Rimmer was a small minded, petty bureaucrat with less personal appeal then a plague rat who had separated from his wife and really let himself go was something he understood all too well. With a clear authority figure and rival to be a target for his natural drive to rebel, it reinforced his personality and let him keep his mind. In your case however Holly must have been trying a different approach."

Kochanski smiled, "I asked Holly a few hours after Lister had been revived why it had been him. Holly told me that he had thought we both were still an item. Never mind that I had been going out with Tim for close to three months, Holly had somehow missed that. He had an excuse about corruption of his cached files but I don't know; three million years alone had made Holly several Ferrero Rocher short of an ambassador's reception."

Kryten started whistling quietly to himself.

"What? Kryten? You think that somehow Holly had orchestrated a brilliant master plan? That he had sat down and planned out how we would both react using his vast knowledge of human psychology? It took him four weeks to realise that talking incessantly about everyone who had died wasn't cheering me up. Four weeks of; 'Oh, bet that that Console Officer Gilberts doesn't need her CD collection anymore. You can have them if you want.'"

Kryten drummed his fingers on his chest and pursed his lips, carefully planning what he was going to say next.

"I believe Ma'am that Mr. Lister was exactly what you needed."

"How? We were so different. Look, we're talking about a man who can cut through steel with his morning breath. A man with the verbal wit of a steamed asparagus. A man who couldn't even spell 'culture' let alone understand it. A man whose crowning educational achievement was attending Art College for less than an hour. What did we have as common ground for a meaningful relationship?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you telling me that _your_ Mr. Lister was like that?"

Kochanski looked off into the middle distance, her brows knitting in concentration, "Well, no. I mean, he started like that of course; he was the same disgusting slob that he had been when he was alive. But as a hologram he couldn't touch anything……"

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Lister sauntered into the Drive Room, humming to himself a half remembered, off-key rendition of a popular Rasta Billy Skank single. Kochanski resolutely ignored him, plotting another point on the massive chart in front of her.

Lister sat on the edge of the table, kicking his heels. Kochanski stepped to one side and continued to scribble down calculations, continued to ignore him. Plucking the cigarette from his ear, he transferred it to his mouth and grinned.

"Still getting nowhere?"

Kochanski continued to ignore him but her lips twitched slightly, a grimace waiting just beneath her placid mask. Lister scratched his armpit absently.

"You know what we're doing wrong don't you? We should be going back to Earth. You've got us flying randomly in space where we'll just be stuck flying randomly forever and ever. Let's just go home. You and the Cat can go into stasis and we'll zip there, like that." Lister clicked his fingers to emphasise how easy he thought it would be.

Kochanski continued to ignore him but was visibly uncomfortable; sweating into her pristine uniform and frowning in concentration as she plotted another point onto her chart.

"You don't need to work so hard Krissie, just let Holly handle it. You can kick back, relax, and drink some margaritas while Hol finds a place wide enough to do a massive u-turn and then we just go straight back. Nothin' to it. What you wasting time in here doin' anyway?"

Kochanski continued to ignore him but she was starting to shake from the effort. Lister got up and popped the cigarette back in his ear and stood behind her, looking over the maps.

"Cor, there's lots of nothin' isn't there?"

Kochanski snapped, screaming at him. "Of course there is smegging nothing, we are in uncharted deep space! No one has been here before, I'm having to make all the smegging charts from scratch! Stop getting in the smegging way and let me work it out!"

Lister flinched back from the tirade. Kochanski felt guilty looking at the hurt in his eyes and was about to apologise when Lister cut in.

"See what I mean, waste of time. Just get Hol to turn the ship around and chug back to Earth. Piece of cake."

Any feeling of sympathy Kochanski fizzled away by Lister's blasé attitude. His inane grin didn't help. She was at the point where she was starting to sympathise with Rimmer of all people, who had had to put up with him twenty-four hours a day. Spending the last week and a half subjected to a constant emotional and verbal barrage from him about what they were doing, where they were going and why weren't they going back to Earth was driving her more and more to the brink of a full-blown psychotic episode. It was probably for the best that he didn't have a physical presence or she would have stabbed him by now. Instead she pointed a finger at his face like a pistol and let rip.

"David, let me try and explain this one more time. We can't get back to Earth. We can't just turn around and go backwards. We are probably several hundred thousand light years from Earth, which could be in any number of directions. We aren't driving a mini down the bloody high street, we can't just yank the wheel round and head back the way we came! Holly has no way of knowing what direction he drove the ship, what astronomical bodies affected our flight; we could have been knocked off course by meteors, been whipped round planets bigger than the Sun or dragged toward super novas! I can barely work out where the Milky Way is, never mind Galactic North! Coupled with this, we've been accelerating for millennia with nothing to slow us down; we're probably going close to the speed of light. This floating skip wasn't built to go faster than 200,000 miles per hour. Even if we wanted to just yank the wheel round and go back the way we are travelling now, it would take us well over three months to slow down enough that when we turned we wouldn't suffer major structural damage or catastrophically explode! It's either slow down or loop-the-loop round something with a suitable gravitational pull like a black hole without just plummeting straight into it and killing us all! Oh, and as Holly so delicately reminded me yesterday at breakfast, the human race is most likely extinct. Look at the Cat! What the hell would three million years of evolution have done to the human race? We'd be more under developed than Homo Habilis, we would…. Why the hell are you laughing?"

Lister's attempt to look serious failed miserably and he laughed, a deep belly laugh with no hint of malice or scorn. Kochanski tried to feel insulted or at least irritated but she couldn't manage it. As the laugh continued, she had to work hard on keeping her annoyed expression.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt you Krissie. You had a good rant going there and I went and spoiled it by laughing. It's just nice having you talk to me again. Look, I know it's stupid. I'll stop bothering you about going back to Earth"

Kochanski did smile at this but raised an eyebrow, "You promise?"

Lister stood to attention and crossed himself, "Cross me heart and hope to….. yeah"

Kochanski dropped her pencil and flopped down into a chair.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm just trying to get a plan together. Maybe if I work out where we are it might just all fall into place. I didn't think that I would be the last of the human race. It should have been someone tall, handsome, terrific and with manageable hair. Oh God, there's no one who will be able to cut my hair ever again."

Her head sagged at this and Lister rushed forward, concern filling his eyes.

"Ay, ay, ay, don't be like that Krissie. Look, it's just me and the Cat here. We don't care how you are. We'll deal with that problem when we get to it, you know like when we meet aliens and things. You could always wear a hat then."

Kochanski looked up and once again was surprised that she wasn't more peeved by Lister's massive faux pas, but she really couldn't help it. His whole face beamed, the mischievous twinkle in his eye made you just want to share the joke.

"You're right Dave. Sorry I'm such a misery guts. I should really –"

"Stand aside please dear Gentlefolk, stand aside."

The Cat strode forth into the room, a vision in a crisp scarlet cavalry officer's jacket, white jodhpurs and shimmering black knee-high boots. Striking a heroic pose before the astonished couple in the room, he pulled out a small brass horn and blew a piercing note, a clarion call to arms. Removing the horn he drew up to his full height and declared in a deep voice,

"Attention to all gentle Lady Cats. I am in want of a wife. I possess a good fortune and am of excellent breeding. Please form an orderly queue, this is your lucky day."

There was a silence in the room. The Cat held his position for a moment before sweeping the room with his eyes. Seeing no one besides the humans, he looked downcast.

"Will my search never cease? A beautiful entrance, a well executed fanfare and strong declaration are all for nothing."

Kochanski asked the obvious question, "Cat, what are you doing?"

"Why, dear Madam, I am courting"

Lister looked around, "Who?"

"Why, whoever turns up"

Kochanski let out a sigh, "I'm sorry to disappoint you Cat, but I'm afraid there is no one else apart from yourself, Dave and I."

The Cat looked confused, "Dear Madam, if I were to believe such a fact to be true then I would surely go quite mad."

Kochanski and Lister looked at each other. They were spared from answering as the Cat continued, "I have brought the book you requested Madam."

In his hands he held an ornate, leather-bound book, which he handed carefully to Kochanski. She opened it and gasped, the beautifully inscribed illustrations and calligraphy surprising her in their intricacy and detail. Lister leaned over her shoulder.

"Wow, nice pictures."

"Such work is typical of us Cats. When we want to show an illustration of what is occurring in the text, we have pictures."

Lister looked scathingly at the oblivious Cat, "We have pictures too, you know"

"Who is this?"

Kochanski pointed at a picture of an achingly beautiful woman dressed in a flowing silk dress, her long dark hair festooned with flowers. She was illuminated from above, a halo around her head. At her feet a shadow stretched before her, shaped like a man. The man mirrored the way she stood but was darker and heavy set. Kochanski was reminded of Bacchus, his smiling face without guile.

"Why, that is Anne Skai, the Golden Light. She is our Goddess, the protector of our people. Below her is her mate, Cloister who is Father of us all. He brought forth the Holy Mother from whom we are all descended. It is said that his brother, Rom Mer, grew jealous of Cloister and used his vanity to trap him within a mirror for all eternity. Anne Skai took the Holy Mother and hid her from the vengeful gaze of Rom Mer. She blessed the Holy Mother, told her of the world and taught her the way one must live; with breeding, honour and pride.

Finally, Rom Mer found Anne Skai and they fought, the whole ship quaking from the force of their titanic battle. After days of combat, Rom Mer was defeated but Anne Skai was gravely injured in the struggle. In order to survive she travelled unto the bowels of the ship and froze herself within a crystal. There are some among us who hear her guide us, leading us unto the righteous path and avoiding the path of vanity that so betrayed our Father. It is also said that she will one day arise and lead us to our true destiny. Of course, these are just stories. I try not to let it interfere with my time spent preening or snoozing. One must always look one's best, yes?"

Kochanski stared at Lister, trying to imagine him with a shred of vanity as once again he transferred the cigarette he could never light from his mouth to his ear.

"And now, gentlefolk, I must leave. As much as one tries, the needs of all females must be attended to."

The Cat bowed and left the room blowing his hunting horn and scattering a skutter who was attempting to repair a vending machine.

Kochanski shook her head in amazement, "That is incredible. Holly, could you translate the book for us please?"

Lister whistled low, "Who'd have thought, local boy makes good. Not too hot on the idea that I get diddled out of my Godhood by Rimmer but still, not bad being the mate of a Goddess."

Kochanski burst out laughing and picked up her pencil, "Yeah, right. Only in your dreams would I be your mate."

Lister jumped up and perched on the desk as she tried to continue with her calculations.

"I don't know Krissie, how about it? Last two humans able to chat in the universe, got to count for something, right?"

She looked deep into those eyes, warm and smiling and without guile. She found herself grinning back.

"Sure, why not?"


	4. Chapter 4

"'Why not?'"

Kochanski shrugged, "What? You wanted there to be fireworks, grand declarations, proposals? This is Lister we are talking about; across a million parallel universes I'm sure they are all the same. The most romantic thing they can think of is to brush yesterday's poppadoms off the bed sheets _before_ the seduction."

"Point taken Ma'am."

Kochanski stood and made her way over to the bunk, boosting herself up into the top and settled herself in, pulling out a magazine.

"It's strange, I would never have thought that in a million years I would end up with Lister. Well, in the end it took three million years but still…."

Kryten drummed his fingers on his chest and looked about shiftily. Kochanski noticed the look and let out an exasperated sigh.

"What is it Kryten?"

Kryten looked down. "When did he change?" He stammered.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just that – well it's just – it's like – well Ma'am. He liked pasta!"

Kochanski stared at Kryten who squirmed under her gaze.

"You're holding me responsible for what he eats? He was a grown man, he ate what he wanted. When he gained a hard light body he could touch, taste. God, imagine him eating curries every single day for the rest of his life, how could you live with that breath? Oh God and the stains…"

Kryten gazed off wistfully.

"Anyway, the Lister in this reality, Your Lister, has never discovered the subtleties of a symphony. He's never been caught up in the drama of 'Rigaletto'. He's never sampled white truffle oil on freshly made linguini. My Dave learned that there is a whole world of experiences outside of a takeaway carton, he knew that being sophisticated wasn't being a 'class traitor'. It was experiencing a side to life that he hadn't had a chance to sample before."

Kryten crossed his arms and tried to glare at Kochanski, failing miserably to look anywhere near as disapproving as he intended. "Mr Lister is a proud man and for very good reason. He dragged himself up from his pitiful beginnings to be a well adjusted and valuable member of society."

Kochanski raised an eyebrow.

Kryten stammered, "Well, a functioning human being."

"You're right. I shouldn't be so hard on him. He has had a rough time of it. "

Kryten returned to page four of the JMC Supplies Requisition Form and tried to answer question 17, 'Explain, using diagrams where appropriate, how the acquisition of item may benefit the long term functionality of the crew and aid in achieving mission parameters." He had just started drafting a flow diagram when he heard an exasperated sigh from the bunks.

"Is everything alright Ma'am?"

Kochanski shook her head, "It's weird. I never really thought before how different our lives have been. You all looked so familiar, so like the people I had lost that I thought you were the same. Your Dave is an older, tougher version of the scamp that grew up in Liverpool. My Dave would barely recognise him."

"That's true Ma'am, your last account described an erudite and cultured Cat, yet no less self centred."

Kochanski laughed, "The Cat, erudite? Let me tell you, his use of archaic words and courtly manners never came from any intelligence. He was brought up by the Cat priests and their language sort of rubbed off onto him…."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kochanski was stitching up the hem of a dress when Holly appeared on the mirror in the Sleeping Quarters. She glanced up briefly before shaking her head and continuing what she was doing. Sure enough, Holly was looking upwards, trying to remember why he had materialised in the first place. After a minute or so he looked around the room and finding no inspiration disappeared. Kochanski tied off the thread she was working on and was looking at her handiwork critically when Holly's face appeared again at the mirror.

"That was it, finished that translation you wanted."

Kochanski grinned and folded up the dress, "So, where is the Cat from?"

"He's descended from your cat, Frankenstein, who they see as some creator mother figure. They have a complicated aristocratic society of inter marriages and alliances based on different Cats tracing their lineage from one of several family lines. They have clan names like Bennett, Darcy, Heathcliffe and Earnshaw".

Kochanski tried desperately to place all the names, it all sounded so familiar and yet – "Those are all characters from Regency period romantic novels. Where on Earth did they learn about – ?"

" 'And lo, the Goddess herself bestowed Wisdom upon the Holy Mother, telling her of all the world and its works. She spoke of the lives of Saints and Demons and the difficulties in finding a Good Man, yea with the parables of Emma and Elizabeth, of Elinor and Catherine. The Holy Mother learned the tenets of our faith from the Goddess herself; yea we are blessed indeed' "

"I used to read out loud to the kitten. She was so desperate for attention, I just used to put her on my lap and read her my stories, my Jane Austen novels."

Kochanski looked up at Holly's oblivious face.

"You know, 'Sense and Sensibility', 'Pride and Prejudice'?"

Holly continued to look blank and then continued his explanation. "The Cats' 'Holy Mother' was supposed to have been carved from the steel of the ship by the God Cloister and life was breathed into it by the Goddess Anne Skai. There's a lot of Cats begetting Cats and then talk of creating the City. The text goes on to –"

"City?"

Holly sighed, all these interruptions meant he kept losing his place in the book. It wasn't going to help with the whole story telling thing. "The Cat city that is in the Cargo hold. The text goes on –"

Kochanski leapt to her feet, "There's a whole city of Cats in the cargo hold?"

"Gordon Bennett, let me finish. 'The great City was to last a thousand thousand years but lo, the Vanity of its Cats became too great. Yea, their differences were too great and a darkness descended upon us and Brother fought Brother, for those that served were righteous in their Pride but Damned is he that rules the lives of others. Love and Humility and Faith were forgotten in this place and all fell unto oblivion as the Cats once more knew War.'

Kochanski sat back and let this all sink in. There had been a whole city of Cats. The cargo holds had been crammed with supplies for Triton, millions of tons of food, equipment and every sort of item that a thriving mining colony would require. A whole civilisation had risen from a tiny moggy she couldn't bring herself to disintegrate. They had a culture, a way of life, a religion. And all that came with it. Holy war….

"Holly, does it say what started the war?"

" 'The Holy Mother taught to us all the way we should live as the great and good Anne Skai taught her. The lessons she taught us formed our creed and the path our lives were to lead and yea, all was well. But whispers were heard amongst the faithful, that there were many Truths that the Goddess had given to her Chosen, her priests and priestesses, that they did not share as she had bid them. And lo, there was a great meeting of the Cats, and yea, the Chosen of the Goddess were bidden to speak the truth to all that were faithful.'

'All of the Goddess' Chosen spoke the Truths of the Goddess to the assembled, of the ways of Humility and the danger of Pride. But verily, there was one amongst the Chosen whose Pride knew no bounds and he spoke the Truth that the Goddess did not want to be heard.'

'The Proud Deceiver told of the love that Anne Skai held in her true heart, not for the AllFather Cloister but for another. Madness took the Cats as the lies spilled from the throats of more of the Chosen of the Goddess, lies of how she loved a mortal, of how she herself trapped Cloister to be with the Unspeakable One. And a great cry went up and the righteous rose up and slew the unfaithful. The Clans were sundered by the lies of one and the Goddess turned her face.' "

Kochanski whispered one word, "Tim".

Holly didn't hear her and continued, " 'And a great many were slain in the battles that made the very ceiling shake, the Goddess letting all know her displeasure. Yea, the dead outnumbered the living, and there was such a woe as to move the hearts of the leaders of the Clans. They knew great loss and laid down their arms. The Great War had much wearied the souls of the survivors and it fell unto the last of the Chosen to make Peace. And a Peace was made. The Goddess spake and the sacred Chariots of the Gods, those long denied to the Cat people, were given unto her People. The Cats were charged with a crusade to spread the ways of peace that they had learned to the cosmos, yea and verily the World was to be guarded for their return.' "

Kochanski sprang to her feet and rushed over to one of the lockers, rooting through a neat stack of rolled up maps. "How long ago did they leave? How did they leave? If we can work out what direction they went in we could maybe – "

Holly shook his head sadly; "As far as I can tell this book is centuries old. It would have been the ancestors of the Cat who were left behind on Red Dwarf who would have written it."

"But surely, Holly, it would just be a matter of checking the – "

"I had the Skutters check over the whole ship before I let you out of stasis. There are four 'White Giant' Cargo haulers missing and as far as I can remember, the doors on the landing gantry haven't been opened for about two hundred years."

As Holly was speaking, Kochanski found the one she wanted and she spread it out on the table and with a pencil began scribbling.

"Which direction did they leave in, Hol?"

"I've got no idea. It wasn't exactly at the top of my list of priorities at the time….."

Holly trailed off at the sight of flat, malevolent stare levelled at him from across the room.

"Well ok, I was out of sorts at the time. Anyway, they could be anywhere now."

Kochanski desperately doodled some calculations before letting out an exasperated gasp and throwing down the pencil. She flopped heavily into her chair and started to rub her temples.

Lister chose that moment to saunter into the Sleeping Quarters, jauntily humming the tune to a dirty limerick he had spent a lot of time the day before trying to teach to Kochanski. Seeing her obviously distressed, he silently knelt by her side. Trying to look into her eyes his hand rising to touch her shoulder before suddenly stopping and awkwardly hovering next to her arm.

"Erm, you alright Krissie?"

Kochanski shook her head and turned more to face him, her arms half rising for a hug before she dropped her hands into her lap instead. "Sorry Dave, I just feel a bit weird."

Holly nodded sagely. "Yeah, finding out that you inadvertently caused a conflict that probably killed thousands because you couldn't decide between two men must be a downer. "

Lister looked confused as Kochanski stared daggers at Holly's image on the monitor. He looked about uncomfortably and disappeared.

"Conflict?" asked Lister.

Kochanski shook her head. "The Cats. There was a whole city of them, Dave, can you imagine it? A city full of Cat People in the Cargo holds. And because I said a lot of things to a kitten, there was a Holy War. "

Lister shrugged. "People will treat each other like smeg for whatever reason they can come up with at the drop of a hat. I'm sure the Cats are no different. If it wasn't this it would have been over the sacred way to eat a can of tuna or stoning people to death for not walking backwards on a Tuesday."

Kochanski pulled a face, the fact that any of them had died upset her, but it did actually make her feel less like she was fully responsible.

"So what did you say?"

Kochanski looked into those deep brown eyes and tried to think of what she would say that would do the least harm.

The piercing klaxon of sirens filled the air and Holly once again appeared on screen.

"Sorry dudes, just picked up a signal. Might be important."

Kochanski stood, glad of the distraction as both she and Lister hurried to the Drive Room


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of churning machinery reverberated around the Drive Room as Kochanski, Cat and Lister skidded to a halt. They had found the Cat on their way and convinced him to join them in finding out what the signal was. He had until then been stalking through the corridors on the habitation deck dressed in gleaming safari whites and wearing a pith helmet, hunting for what he described as 'Ladies of Delectable Quality'. Having been doing this for the past eight minutes however, he was becoming bored and appreciated the distraction.

Holly's calm face filled the central console, looking down on the assembled company as he explained why they were all there.

"I'm receiving an automated distress signal from a charter vessel going by the call sign 'Nova 5'. Actually, hang about, I think I'm getting something now."

Holly's face was replaced by the angular features of a mechanoid. The face flinched suddenly, startled, and began to speak,

"Oh, thank goodness! My name is Kryten. I am the service mechanoid aboard the Nova 5. We have had the most dreadful accident. The male officers died on impact. The female officers are injured but stable. Please help us."

Kochanski moved to speak but was beaten to it by the Cat who pulled off his high helmet and declared, "You speak of poor young maidens in distress? Tell me dear sir, are they chaperoned? In what manner are their finances?"

Kryten looked confused but was saved from answering by Kochanski.

"I am Kristine Kochanski, Senior Officer of the Jupiter Mining Corporation vessel, Red Dwarf. My crew and I shall endeavour to bring to you whatever assistance you may require. Please give us your co-ordinates and whatever information you may have on the condition of the injured."

The lipless mechanical face split in a huge grin as Kryten clapped his hands in exuberance. "Oh, thank you Ma'am. I am sending the details to you now."

The console went black before a cascade of green text flowed down the screen, navigation co-ordinates for the location of the crashed vessel. The Cat let out a low appreciative growl as the text was replaced by images of the three women who had been injured in the crash along with pertinent medical information.

Kochanski leapt straight into action, moving across to the drive computer and inputting the data that was still transmitting from the Nova 5. "Holly, plot a course. Give me an ETA on our arrival and prepare a team of skutters to take any of the injured to the medibay. I want to make sure that the first priority is to the intake and stabilisation of any survivors. Before we set down we'll also need a topographical scan of the crash site and a structural assessment of the condition of the ship before we risk going out there."

Her gaze flicked up to see Holly's confused expression. She let out a sigh. "What is it?"

Holly's eyes shifted about, trying not to meet her gaze. "What does ETA mean?"

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Oh right, about twenty four hours, give or take a bit."

The Cat gasped dramatically. "A mere twenty four hours? I must prepare myself, physically and mentally for the arduous task ahead. I must preen, shave, primp, wax, curl and coiffure to perfection to astound these fair blooms. Pray, dear friends, allow me the indulgence of excusing myself while I prepare. I do declare, I am all aflutter!"

As the Cat skipped merrily from the Drive Room, Lister shook his head despairingly and took the chewed-up pen from between his lips. Lister couldn't smoke as a hologram so had resorted to the chronic smoker's methadone, a pen that Holly had digitised for him to help take some of the strain. A blue stain on his lower lip testified the fact that he was on to his third of the morning.

"What's the matter with him? We are on a mission of mercy delivering urgently needed medical supplies. We are not on the pull."

Kochanski hadn't heard him; instead desperately poring over the data that Kryten had relayed over, a frown creasing her features as she scrolled back and forth through the medical information.

Lister perched himself next to the keyboard that Kochanski was hammering away at and leant his face down to block her view of the screen. After a few seconds of trying to look around him, she threw up her hands and glared at his grinning face.

"What is it Dave?"

Lister's beamed wider. "You're worrying again."

"I'm not worrying, I am co-ordinating."

"C'mon Krissie, it'll be fine. We've got a five mile long ship stacked to the gills with supplies and whatever we need to do anything. We can set up a colony with what we have in the holds. This is good news. There's no need to go have a massive stressy over it."

"Please let me just sort this Dave, I really don't want to –"

Lister was shaking his head, "Krissie, Krissie, Krissie. Chill out. We have a whole day to sort this. All we need to do is load a couple of skutters onto one of the Midgets and scoot over there. We can work it out on the way there. Holly is on the case. IQ of 6000 gotta be good for something right?"

Kochanski leant back in her chair and crossed her arms, her scowl on full display now.

"David, I want to know exactly what we are doing before we get there. I want to know the situation inside out and plan for any contingencies. You said it yourself, this is a mission of mercy. For all we know they could be the last three humans left in the entire Universe. We can't smeg this up."

Lister nodded, subdued for the moment and slunk off the console, his teeth snapping through the pen he had been vigorously chomping down on. With a sigh, he took out the splintered rod of plastic and let it fall from his fingers where it disappeared before hitting the floor.

"There's something weird about this data."

Lister spun back at the sound of Kochanski's voice and knelt beside her, looking over the green text.

"It's the dates for the mission logs. Look, they left Earth in the twenty-fifth century. Smegging hell, they're from the future!"

"Dave, we're three million years ahead of the time we were born, if anything they're in the prehistoric past -"

But Lister was already gone, "From the future, Krissie! Their technology must be so far in advance of our own; you just had to look at that Kryten robot. Makes the droids we had in our time look like skutters. I guess he did look like a bloke who had forgotten to get out his car when he took it down the crushers but still –"

"It's not that, there's something else that's wrong with all this but I can't make it out. Maybe it's got something to do with their medical data but I can't be sure without – "

"Shove the data in the Medicomp and let it work it out. We're not Doctors so it's not our problem."

Krissie shook her head. There was something wrong with all this but she couldn't work it out. It all just seemed a mite strange. What was a private charter spaceship doing out here, three million years travel from Earth? Why had nobody else popped by in that time to rescue them? The data that had been transmitted was so full of holes and weird codes that it just hurt looking at it.

"You're probably right Dave, we'll have to work it out when we can bring them back on board." She suddenly grinned. "You know, it'll be strange having a few new faces about. Who knows, you might not be just stuck with me for the rest of Eternity. David Lister, a free man."

She turned and noticed his unsmiling face, the look of confusion in his eyes. She hastily got up and tried to change the subject,

"You know Dave, you're right. Let's sort this out later. Holly, feed the medical data into the Medicomp. Let me know the results of the topographical scan when you can." Kochanski started walking out and turned at the entrance to the Drive Room to see Lister unmoving at the console, staring morosely at the data. Unable to stand the silence, Kochanski played her trump card.

"Hey, Dave. It's not all bad. C'mon, its cultural exchange night and its your turn. I heard that the skutters managed to find a working version of 'Casablanca "

At this, Lister slowly stood and walked towards her, a fixed smile on his face that didn't touch his eyes. It was only as they were walking towards the cinema room that Lister spoke.

"You know, I think I could put up with eternity with you, Krissie."

Kochanski smiled sadly, "I know, Dave. And I love you for it."

Lister beamed and started whistling the tune to 'As Time Goes By' as they entered the cinema, walking as close to arm in arm as the last human alive and a ghost could.


	6. Chapter 6

The massive trench left by the craft had left a four-mile scar across the landscape of the barren moon. Kochanski easily followed the path created by the wreckage as she piloted the Blue Midget, with a very interested Cat leaning over her to watch what she was doing. At first she had thought that there was a benefit to be gained from his natural curiosity; it would be a good thing to have him share with the piloting duties. Unfortunately, it did seem that as she tried explaining what she was doing to him, she began to realise it was much more likely that the Cat was seeing this journey more as an opportunity to press buttons occasionally and stare down her top.

Lister was looking at the topographical plan and was plotting a suitable landing spot. At least, that's what she hoped he was doing. Glancing behind her, she could see his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried desperately to make the squiggly green lines on the readout make sense. She shook her head and smiled. Well, at least he was trying.

They flew about the crash site twice before Lister gave her some co-ordinates that were almost correct, which she adjusted as they set down. As soon as the landing stanchions crunched into the crust of the moon, a hatch opened on the intact side of the half-submerged front section of the Nova 5 and a figure emerged. The odd stepping gait and the cheery waving set him out as a mechanical well before he had come close enough for the crew to make out the details of his face.

Kochanski donned her space suit, a red splattered greasy affair that was slightly large but at least was airtight. She worried about the Cat's elaborate gold number, festooned with filigree details and, for some reason, a pair of diamante effect cufflinks. It looked liable to come apart any instant but the Cat had assured her that all would be well. Well, he had actually said that he had been careful to co-ordinate his bodysuit worn underneath with the colour of his innards in the unlikely event that the suit wasn't space worthy and he suffered explosive decompression. It didn't allay her fears, but she felt she would be nagging if she pursued it so she left him to it. Lister was in his rumpled blue technician's uniform and was cleaning one of his front teeth by scraping it with his fingernail whilst waiting for the air-lock procedure to run its course.

As the door rumbled aside, it revealed the gentle angular features of the mechanoid. A quizzical frown creased his forehead before the dark red mouth parted in an awed grin as he took in the sight of his rescuers. Extending a hand to Kochanski she shook it gingerly, aware of the slightly off-kilter look in the mechanoid's eyes, his grip slightly too firm for comfort. The Cat nodded graciously, acknowledging the presence of a menial with the correct level of decorum. Lister waved.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Ma'am, Sirs. Please follow me; there are beverages and refreshments awaiting you in the craft."

Kryten attempted some idle chit-chat regarding the pleasantness of their trip, the lack of weather and the difficulty in finding a good landing area, whilst deflecting any queries on the condition of the crew or the vessel by claiming that he was 'merely a service mechanoid and would not be able to assist them further' as they made their way to the vessel. The Nova 5 was a small craft, about twice as large as the Starbug class vessels that Red Dwarf housed. Kochanski noted that it didn't have the huge hydrogen scoop that ships from her time required, and couldn't for the life of her work out what powered the damn thing. It was something she was going to try and study once they had stowed the crew safely back in Red Dwarf's medibay.

The mechanoid led them through a hatch into a maze of slanting corridors that made up the living quarters. The entire section leant to one side where it had come to rest after the crash, and they had to walk downhill to get to the main living room and the galley. The further they went, the more Kochanski's curiosity was piqued. The living quarters were incredibly generous considering the size of the craft; a crew of six was nowhere near the maximum carrying capacity of the ship. Where were all the cargo holds? Where were the engines? Running some basic calculations in her head there was no way this craft could have gone this far from Earth without putting the crew into stasis for millennia. If they did that then why? They had to have been doing something pretty special to by this far into deep space.

Her thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at what was labelled in English and Esperanto as the "Dining Room". Kryten stopped at the door and waited expectantly. It took Kochanski a moment to realise that they were alone and turned to see the Cat admiring his reflection in a full length mirror with Lister cajoling him as best he could to move on. She shook her head and stalked back up the corridor, grabbing him by his shoulder pad and dragging him down towards Kryten, who continued to hesitate before the Dining Room entrance.

"Sirs, Ma'am. The crew are through here. I must say that they have been giddy with excitement at the prospect of meeting you all."

Kochanski grimaced in concentration, focused on the mission. Lister smiled encouragingly at the increasingly awkward Kryten. Cat was doing his best not to drool.

The door slid open. Kryten strode to the side of the table and presented with a flourish the perfectly preserved skeletons of the crew of the Nova 5. Each body had been dressed, made up and posed at the table as if they had been dining.

"Oh God," Kochanski exclaimed, bringing a hand to her mouth, doing her best not to be sick.

The Cat let his disappointment show full on his face as he walked to the table and inspected the three women at close quarters. He raised an experimental finger and poked one in its boney shoulder.

"Well, isn't anyone going to say 'Hello'?" said Kryten expectantly, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

Lister was the one who recovered from the shock first. "Kryten, they're dead."

"Who is, sir?"

"Kryten, all of the crew are dead." Kochanski stuttered.

Kryten stopped abruptly, his shock plain.

"No!"

"I'm so, so sorry, Kryten." Kochanski moved forward and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Kryten's face creased with consternation, "I was only away for a few minutes."

Lister shook his head, "Kryten, they must have been dead for ages. Years and years."

Kryten shook his head, "No!"

The Cat snapped. "Let your eyes see the truth your heart denies, Metal Man. They have less flesh upon their bones than a whippet left without sustenance for three months."

Kryten fell heavily upon the floor, landing awkwardly on the deck in a seated position, his eyes unfocused and staring ahead. Kochanski knelt by his side, Lister hovered worriedly next to the door and the Cat, tired of the hysterics going on around him, picked up Miss Anne's plate of the still warm soup and proceeded to lap at it.

A small, dejected whine emanated from the mechanoid. "Where shall I go? What shall I do? I am programmed to serve."

Lister stepped a little further into the room. "Well, I suppose the first thing we should do is bury them."

Another whine escaped Kryten's voice unit.

Kochanski gave the hard plastic and metal shoulder of the mechanoid a squeeze. "Kryten, please, take all the time you need. We'll do what we can to help."

"Yeah Krytes, come with us."

Kochanski shot a stare at Lister as he declared this statement. Kryten didn't seem to have heard him. Abruptly, the mechanoid stood, cleared a space on the Dining Table and proceeded to detach his left arm.

Kochanski leapt to her feet and tried to grab a hold of the robot, trying to stop his dismantling progress. His arm continued unimpeded in its progress, Kochanski's struggles had no effect.

Lister rushed forward, waving his arms and shouting, " Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, you've got no need to do this, man."

Kryten placed his left arm on the table and was popping the catches on his neck that would allow the removal of his head. In a monotone voice he stated, "My core program dictates that my primary commands have run to completion. My runtime and power requirements are detrimental to the mission. I am now surplus to mission parameters and am shutting down." Turning to Kochanski he continued in his normal voice, "Sorry about the mess."

Just as he wrenched off his head, placing it onto the table and opening the catch behind his left ear that allowed access to his CPU, Kochanski grabbed his hand.

"Kryten, stop. I'm ordering you to stop."

Cat put down his plate and rejoined the proceedings. "Indeed domestic robot, you are terminating yourself within the Dining area with no regard to decorum. I must say that it is most ungracious to expect us as your guests to clear away your body."

Lister rolled his eyes, "Smeggin' Hell Cat, would a little tact kill you?"

Kryten's fingers stopped in their progress and the head on the table looked down sheepishly.

"You are of course correct, Sir, I was not thinking correctly."

Flipping close the hatch of his head, Kryten began to reassemble himself.

Lister smiled, "That's right Kryten, come with us. There is nothing for you here now. We can look after you."

Kryten snapped on his left arm again and nodded to himself, resolved.

"Sirs, Ma'am. I would like to accept your offer of passage on your vessel but I am afraid that I cannot allow you to care for me. I am a mere mechanoid and simply request that I can render you whatever service you require."

Lister shook his head. "Kryten, none of that 'Sir' crap. My name's Dave Lister."

Kryten nodded and gave him a little bow, "Of course, Mr Lister Sir."

Kochanski laughed at Lister's expression but stopped as she once again perceived the bodies that were still sat posed around them. She shuddered and went to Lister's side. Kryten was clearing the dining items away and collecting his belongings while the Cat was looking in the cupboards for more food. Kochanski whispered into Lister's ear,

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? It seems fairly obvious that this mechanoid is several trees short of a thicket; he's been cultivating the dead crew like some dress up dolls. How do you know he didn't do it?"

Lister stared at her and shook his head, "He's not a psycho, Krissie. He just must be so lonely. He's been stuck out here for God knows how long and has had to adjust to life on his own. I mean, its not like he could harm any of -"

"Kryten! So good to see you!" Kochanski exclaimed as the mechanoid entered the Dining Room, holding in his hands a small box. He looked around dejectedly and trembled as he caught sight of the bodies of his crew members again.

Kochanski saw the pain in his eyes and she couldn't help but go to his side. It may have been the most stupid way of dealing with the situation, bringing in a potentially homicidal droid onto the ship, but looking at him she had to agree with Lister. She could see his genuine remorse at the fact that the crew were now gone and if they were careful, it may even be possible to lead him to recovery. He needed them.

"Kryten, I think it best that we get to Red Dwarf ASAP. We'll get the skutters to sort out – matters here."

Kryten nodded numbly and let himself be led out by Kochanski, out of the last resting place of the crew of the Nova 5 and into his new life.


	7. Chapter 7

Lights out had been announced and although Kryten had explained to the guards on numerous occasions that he did not require sleep, prison rules stated that he was permitted no light if he wished to continue working past the 9pm evening period. Not that it usually bothered him, his optical receptors had a night vision function that could use the low amount of dirty orange light that filtered into the cell from the corridor to sit up and do forms. This evening he was in grim silence as Kochanski continued her narrative in a low whisper. She paused and hearing no comment from the bunk below leant over the side and peered into Kryten's bunk. Straining in the low light she whispered,

"Are you alright Kryten?"

"I'm perfectly fine Ma'am."

Kochanski sighed, she had heard the soft creak of bed springs that had confirmed the right leg jiggle.

"Kryten, I didn't mean to upset you by reminding you of….where we found you. It was a long time ago and…. "

"Ma'am, please. There is no need for concern. To all intents and purposes, who I was before Mr Lister found me is of no consequence. It is a time that I…. devote little of my run time to."

She could just make out his crestfallen features in the dim half light and stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder.

"Kryten, I'm sorry. If you want, we won't speak of it again. I just thought- "

"I don't know why I'm even concerned, there were thousands of series 4000s produced, everyone with my specification. It's not like your Kryten was –"

"His full name was Kryten 2X4B-523P."

Kryten's eyes locked on hers, she could feel the weight of that gaze even in the dark. His open face was so familiar to her but the expression that hung on his features looked entirely wrong.

"What was I like?"

The quiet pleading in his eyes moved her. Despite herself, she felt herself well up because she knew that he couldn't.

"You were…. lost I suppose. We did what we could to help but it was more than we could deal with on our own. We had to find some way to get you functioning…."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The salvaging of the Nova 5 had taken a little under a month. The systematic taking apart of the ship's useful components, the collection of supplies and the ferrying of everything on the Starbugs and Blue Midgets to Red Dwarf had taken a lot longer than Kochanski had originally planned. Unable to rely on the men on board for any of the physical work, Lister being without a body and the Cat being as used to working as his domesticated ancestors, Kochanski had to organise teams of Skutters on all the important tasks. Kryten was a resource she didn't want to risk on this task; she didn't know what would happen if he were reminded of what he had done.

It had taken a certain amount of gentle questioning and conjecture to piece together events that led to the crash. Lister hadn't liked the fact that Kochanski had confined Kryten to Starbug while she worked out the risk he posed to the crew but even he realised after details of the crash emerged that it was for the best.

The crew of the Nova 5 had been Star Engineers, working freelance for a certain soft drinks company to create the most expensive advert ever made. Having travelled to the required Star in the required quadrant of space and accelerated its development into Super Nova in order to spell out the message that would finally bury Pepsi, the crew entered stasis to make the massive trip back to Earth. Kryten had been left to maintain the ship while the crew slumbered. Having received his last order to "Clean this ship from top to bottom" he obeyed as he was programmed. Finishing the walls, floors, ceilings and surfaces he opened up the computer systems and set about their innards with a squeegee mop and a full beeswax polish. As warning alarms screamed and the crew awakened, the ship began its final screaming dive into the moon's surface.

Three of the crew had survived the crash as Kryten had described, injured but stable. The rest had died. After basic treatment of the wounds of the survivors Kryten began to look after his masters. He had still been looking after them three million years later when Red Dwarf picked up the distress call he had broadcast every morning for the last one hundred million mornings.

Kochanski rubbed at her tired eyes. She had set herself a punishing schedule, working long days organising and moving equipment. She wanted to get away from this barren moon; she couldn't shake the idea that she was spending weeks in a graveyard scrabbling at the carcass of some great beast. Working with barely functioning robotic spanners who couldn't understand the simplest of commands hadn't made it any easier.

While the salvage operation was ongoing the days were long and full of a million things to worry about. The problem now was trying to figure out what to do next. What was basically a diversion to chase up on a signal had not really got them any closer to deciding what it was they were going to do next.

Looking up she took in the form of Lister sitting at the scanner table poring over a hologrammatic version of Kryten's manual that they had managed to salvage from the remains of the Nova 5's hard drive. She gave him a little smile as she caught him peering at her over the top of the pages and he smirked and got back to reading.

Kochanski freely admitted to herself that she couldn't have done anywhere near as much as she had and as quickly without Lister. Cramped together in a Starbug during the salvage operation he had been fantastic in a non-physical way; helping organise the skutter crews, discussing with her what bits they could realistically save and what they couldn't, keeping her company, keeping her sane. As he began to relax around her he stopped being the awkward boy who blushed when she talked or the strutting adolescent joker who made jokes so he didn't have to be himself. He was a mate, a kind soul with a sympathetic ear and the kind of sense of humour that just set people at ease. There was a little flirtation but given their history it was something that made her feel good. After a day of lugging around huge oil streaked crates she would be sweaty, tired, oily and ratty and desperate for the bath that Starbug didn't have and all it would take was a cheeky Scouse voice praising the pertness of her bottom to make it all better. Her mother wouldn't approve but she didn't have to be the last person alive. Coming home to someone who loved her made all the difference.

She pulled up a chair next to his at the scanner table and leant back. He smiled at her and lowered his book.

"Evening, gorgeous."

Kochanski smiled and looked at Lister's chubby, cheeky face. It was strange seeing him without his dreadlocks but the more she looked at him, the more it suited him.

"How you getting on with the book?" she nodded at the manual in his hands.

Lister sighed, "Terrible. It's full of junk like how to customise his eye colour and tune his internal fm radio but nothing on removing or otherwise affecting his memory recall. I guess we'll have to help him the old fashioned way."

Kochanski nodded. When did life get so complicated? As sad as Kryten's story was it was a massive pain in the arse for them to have to be the ones to pick up the pieces as a result of his advanced computer senility. Having to deal with Holly was bad enough.

From the galley came the low whistle in perfect pitch of "Bye, Bye, Baby". Lister closed the book and put it down on the table as Kryten entered with Kochanski's evening meal. It was the system that they had been forced to adopt after a few near misses in the first week; in order to keep Kryten from trying to forcibly dismantle himself after a surge of guilt he would let the couple know when he was to enter a room so that any conversation about the salvage operation or his condition could stop before he over heard it. Today's warning tunes seemed to be the songs made popular by the Bay City Rollers. Lister shuddered.

Kryten entered, bearing a tray of grilled vegetables and pasta.

"Supper, Ma'am."

Kochanski shook her head as he laid down the tray on the only free corner of the scanner table not covered in lists or chunks of machinery.

"Kryten, please. What did I tell you about cooking my meals?"

"Oh Ma'am, I realise that you voiced a request to prepare your own meal but I understood that you wished to dine by 1800 hours ship time. What with you not returning from your…. task until well past 2200 hours ship time, I took the liberty to –"

"That's fine Kryten, really. Thank you."

Kryten beamed, his chest puffed out in pride, "No need Ma'am, just doing my duty."

Lister studiously looked at the floor, doing his best not to say anything out of turn. Kochanski knew full well what Lister's views were on Kryten's 'duty'. Lister had a lot of views on domestic servitude, all in one direction and all not liking it one bit. She knew that if she hadn't warned him before hand he would be desperately trying to get Kryten to tip chairs over and play loud rock music in the name of freedom. As it was Kochanski was sure if he tried Kryten would be too busy apologising to the furniture before righting it again for it to have any effect.

Kochanski began to eat. She could feel Kryten's eyes on her and she stopped.

"Kryten, was there something that you…."

Kryten jerked into action, startled momentarily. "I do apologise Ma'am, I was just momentarily taken by a striking resemblance. Please excuse me while I - "

He turned and shuffled into the kitchen.

Lister looked around to ensure he was safely in the kitchen before turning to Kochanski,

"Honestly Kriss, what we going to do with him? Every time he looks at you he sees Tracey or Anne. I caught him making you lemon meringue the other day because he said it had always been your favourite on Nova 5."

Kochanski put down her knife and fork, her brow creasing. She couldn't for the life of her work it out. Kryten was an unknown factor, at the best he was like an old indentured servant who should have retired long before, a sort of non-aggressive senile old butler. But always there was the worry in the back of her mind, the uncertainty that came with a machine that had once been so clever and strong that had lost its mind. Lister and the Cat would be powerless to stop him if he had a programming quirk and decided to endanger the crew once more. Although she could see how much Lister wanted to save him she also knew that he would tolerate nothing that could threaten her.

"I know, I know. We need someone who understands robotics, and before you say it, I'm not going to let you loose on him. I don't want you rummaging around in him when you have no idea what you're doing."

"Come on Kriss, how hard can it be? When I was a kid, I used to take apart video players and put them back together and they'd –"

"He's not a VCR. If you screw this up it can be worse than a few mangled tapes. We need a technician – "

"Where are we going to find a settlement? Just drift around looking for a Diva droid representative out here? We're light years from Earth, it could take years to –"

"I know! We just need to find out how he's put together before he's randomly taken apart. Maybe if we could find somewhere where there are other droids like him? He can't be the only one who survived till now. Maybe there won't be any survivors but if we find a - "

Her train of thought was derailed as the Cat appeared at the top of the stairway leading to the sleeping quarters, adjusted his top hat and vaulted over the rail. He landed lightly on the tips of his toes and spun so he faced toward the kitchen.

"Boy! A brace of quail and a jug of port and be quick about it!"

He turned to face the aghast Kochanski and Lister.

"Good evening companions, I see that I may be in time to dine with you."

Kryten re-entered the Mid-section with a covered plate and placed it at the head of the scanner table. The Cat strode to his place as Kryten hastily slid a chair behind him. The Cat sat down and raised his arms, Kryten placing a napkin on his lap with one hand and removing the plate cover with the other.

Unveiled on the plate were two chicken nuggets. Kryten quickly rushed to the kitchen and brought back a glass and a decanter. Lister and Kochanski followed all this without a word, quietly incredulous as the Cat cut through the breadcrumbs and consumed the chicken within.

"Exquisite, I must say that this new domestic can certainly cook. I must say his precision in table arrangement has room for improvement but that is all –"

"Cat, what the smeg are you doing?"

The Cat looked quizzically at Lister, annoyed for his speaking out of turn.

"I'm sorry, did you two require anything? Boy!"

Kryten appeared at his elbow. Lister held his hands up

"Whoa man, I don't want nothing. Just – are those nuggets? "

"Don't worry ephemeral one, he is here to serve, is that not right, Boy?"

Kryten looked sheepish. "Just doing my duty, sirs. Ma'am. And yes sir, these are nuggets although Mr. Cat assures me that this is what he requires when he asks for - "

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as Holly appeared on the monitor.

"Oi dudes. I've sorted through that last bit of data from the hard drives. Well, I sort of did. It was more of a team effort I suppose, I fed it in to the Navicomp and it worked it out. I've got us some charts."

His face was replaced by a complex image detailing a three-dimensional chart of their position. Kochanski leapt to her feet and rushed to the screen, stared intently at the incontinent spider web mess of green lines on the display. A few moments of fevered calculation later and she let out a little whoop. Lister rushed to her side, Kryten and the Cat forgotten.

"My God there are several systems with s3 class planets and moons within about…. three months travel of here. There are also some space stations and asteroids that are large enough to house colonies. We're bound to find people on one of them. Maybe even somewhere we can service the ship and Kryten."

"That's amazing Krissie!"

"I know, isn't it faberoo!"

She hopped up and down like a hyperactive six year old and was about to throw her arms around Lister before she drew up short and coughed uncertainly. He smiled and gave her thumbs up. She couldn't help but giggle.

"Holly, set a course on bearing 042 mark 327. Let's see if the shops are open."


	8. Chapter 8

Starbug came in low, barely two metres above the blocky roof tops of the settlement. Engines screaming, the Bug banked sharply, raising a flight of gawky winged lizards from the stunted trees scattered throughout the square. The landing stanchions missed the last building's chimney pot by millimetres as the ship hurtled towards an outlying field of coarsely cut wheat.

A threadbare figure labouring in the field dropped his tools and turned to run before being caught in the rush of air caused by the tail of the craft whipping around, phosphorescent streams of ionising gas from the engines scorching swathes of the crop. The figure was flung to the ground and came up spluttering, in time to see the danger and duck down again as the stanchions bit into the crumbly ground beside him and scoured a ripping path through the topsoil. The air was rent by the whine of the retros firing as Starbug skidded across the surface of the planetoid, gradually calming as the motion of the ship slowed and finally stopped.

As the noise of the engines died, the relative silence of the atmosphere drifted back, filled only by the plinking of cooling metal and the zuzung of outer air lock doors opening. The figure, tremblingly, got to his feet and ran.

A dishevelled Kochanski clattered down the staircase and jumped to the ground where she fell to her knees and gripped clods of dry earth, moaning quietly to herself. Lister chased after her and stood nearby, splitting his time between concern for her and scanning the horizon. Kryten followed at a slightly more sedate pace, burdened down with rucksacks and panniers of supplies. The last to exit the Bug was the Cat, bedecked in layers of purple velvet and what looked like Tiger skin. As he gracefully leapt to terra firma, he pulled up his golden leatherette driving gloves, adjusted his purple tinted flying goggles and turned to Lister,

"If I may be so bold to say, I feel that I executed a perfect first landing."

His self-congratulatory grin was accompanied by the sound of Kochanski retching behind him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

After securing the landing site, the Dwarfers proceeded to the gates of the settlement. Towering concrete walls encompassed a roughly circular area about the size of a village with a huge makeshift gate. Essentially there was a gap left in the roughly cast concrete that had been closed over with what looked like a pair of massive frosted glass panels. The gates were slightly ajar, space just large enough for a person to squeeze through and sitting just beside the gap were two figures; one tall and the other taller.

The crew slowed as they approached, and the guards put down their cards and got to their feet. Clad in dirty red uniforms that looked eerily similar in style to the blue JMC uniforms that Kochanski and Lister now wore, Lister barely came to nipple height on the shorter guard. The slender figures were easily eight feet tall and their long arms and legs were not close enough to human to be comfortable. Their enormous eyes complete with blazing golden irises were set above short parrot-like beaks. Long, almost emaciated looking limbs gripped at slender staffs, capped at one end with a metal spike that they dug into the ground and crowned at the other with an elaborate brass contraption with various needles and dials that could sit comfortably in a surveyor's toolbox or in pride of place on the dungeon wall of a Spanish Inquisitor. The shorter of the guards held a hand up to stop them and the crew halted several metres away.

Once he was certain he had their attention, the guard let out a piercing ululating whistle. There was a pause and he repeated the whistle again. This time there was no doubt that this was meant to be a question; his eyes seemed to nail Kochanski to the floor where she stood. She looked at Lister and he could only shrug.

The guard whistled a weird cadence in hushed tones and there was a cawing from his companion that was suspiciously like laughter. The short guard then let out a series of hacking coughs, like a footballer clearing his nose. He glared harder this time. When no communication was forthcoming he tried a series of sibilant hisses and when that failed a series of chattering clicks. He shook his head and spat, shifting his grip on his staff. Lister held up his hands in the international sign of the terminally unarmed and spoke slowly.

"Look pal, we don't want any trouble. We've just come here to trade."

The guard cocked his head to one side and listened. He looked down, then shook his head and whistled to his companion. The taller guard let out a low grumbling whistle and slipped through the narrow gap in the gate, leaving his friend to face the crew.

As the minutes passed the crew began to wander about and the gate guard relaxed slightly. He never put down his weapon but just stood where he was and watched as Kryten put down the packs and offered thermos cups of tea and triangular sandwiches to everyone. The Cat distractedly stalked a group of butterflies flitting amongst the wildflowers by the path and Kochanski walked up to the gate and lightly touched the surface of the 'door'. The slick surface seemed to draw the heat from her hand and an experimental knock sounded a dull thud. The massive forms were seemingly without joins or rivets and she could just make out the words "SS Indefatigable" etched into the surface of the panel several feet above her head.

There was a whistling call and the taller guard came through the door again and nodded to Kryten. The Dwarfers exchanged glances as a figure came through from behind the taller guard, dressed in the same red uniform.

Six feet tall, his kind blue eyes stared out from beneath a fringe of wavy chocolate brown hair. High cheekbones and a slow lazy smile set off a model-perfect human face. He turned to face the newcomers and his eyes locked on Kochanski. They paused there for a few moments before he slowly winked. She blushed and looked at her shoes. Lister looked between the two and seeing that Kochanski wasn't about to talk any time soon, spoke up,

"Sorry to intrude on your … planetoid type thing. We're from the JMC ship Red Dwarf and we're here to trade for supplies and information. Is the Starbug ok where we parked it? I mean, we're not going to get a ticket or nothin' ?"

It was a moment or two after Lister had finished speaking before the man stopped staring at Kochanski and looked at him. He closed his eyes for a moment in concentration before haltingly saying,

"English, yes? I am so sorry, it many years since I speak English."

The thick Italian accent already set Lister's nerves on edge.

"Oh but where are my manners? Come, enter. You will be safe inside. I, Guglielmo da Napoli, will provide for your every comfort whilst you are in Haven."

Lister pulled a face, "What, like the holiday camp?"

But the objection fell on deaf ears. Guglielmo turned to the bird-like guards and whistled a short tune. They shrugged and stood aside to let the Dwarfers through the gap in the gate. Smiling and shaking hands with the Cat, the Italian nodded to Lister and proffered his arm to Kochanski, who giggled as she took it, and together they walked with through the gate, into Haven. Outside, Lister ground his teeth and followed.


	9. Chapter 9

Beyond the gateway the scene was underwhelming. A patchy area of dusty grass set about mud brick blocks was being picked over by a skinny hen. The only thing that lifted the view of rough poverty was a towering cube that rose above the surrounding houses. Its black surface shone dully in the dawn light, its surface like polished obsidian. The rough little mud blocks were randomly scattered around the cube with about as much planning and thought given to their placement as a music festival campsite. The village was hemmed in on all sides by the perimeter wall; more of the bird like Gelfs were squatting atop perches carved into the wall's surface, their long staffs close to hand.

Guglielmo threaded his way between the blocks, neatly stepping over areas of dusty rubble and around pools of stagnant water. Kochanski, walking arm in arm with the Italian was bent close as he whispered into her ear, the murmur indistinct to Lister who was flitting between strolling nonchalantly behind and trotting to keep up with them and listen in. The Cat stalked fastidiously behind him, keeping his Tiger skin and velvet number as far from any source of dirt as possible while Kryten brought up the rear, mechanically marching in step a few paces behind.

The huts abruptly stopped, coming up hard against a perfectly described circle of bare earth packed as solid as concrete. The cube sat in its dead centre. Within the open space were a plethora of figures; Gelfs of various descriptions and mechanoids stood in small knots and made the wild gesticulating movements that throughout the universe indicate the heady realm of commerce. A hugely built, shaggy haired Kinatowawi wearing a Top Hat gestured with a faded pink plastic flamingo on the end of a pole to a pile of circuitry on a blanket. The blank faced Series 1000 mechanoid behind the blanket used his single arm most expressively to demonstrate to the Gelf his opinion on what _he _thought was a fair price. A quartet of the bird-like Gelfs armed with the now familiar staffs stalked through the market escorting a short hooded figure that moved with an easy, slinking grace. A pair of Dolochimps dressed in bloodied aprons scuttled toward a temporary butcher's stand, burdened with a cut of meat that could have been described as beef if the cow had been at least eighteen feet long. A cluster of mechanoids rolling dice against the side of one of the huts stopped to glare at the newcomers as they walked past. The air was heavy with the scent of oil and grease, burnt wood and metal and a dirty haze of gritty smoke hung over the whole scene.

Lister shook his head and tried wiggling a finger in his ear, getting a smirk from an obese Brefewino tailor. No, it wasn't just him. What should have been a cacophony of noise was just leaden silence. He could hear the sounds of what was immediately around him, a trader with a face like a furry fist with teeth sticking out barked a series of coughs and retches while smiling and holding aloft a massive pink pineapple-like fruit. He shook his head and the trader shrugged. A few steps further he couldn't hear the clatter as the trader's cart collided with a mechanoid and wild gesticulations started up.

All that Guglielmo could offer as explanation; "It is the cube."

Kochanski was staring wide eyed at the black shape. Up close it looked even stranger, it was free of any marks or rivets, a solid object that could have grown there for all the sense it made. An askew rectangular opening a few metres across was roughly halfway up the surface and a steady stream of Gelfs were climbing through the hole and heading down a rickety set of wooden steps to the ground level.

"It's hollow?" asked Kochanski

Guglielmo shook his head and laughed, "No_ Bella_, there are, how you say? Walks inside that go underneath the ground."

"Tunnels?"

"_Si_, tunnels. The Cube has been there for as long as I can remember. Haven is below. We shall head below in a moment."

The Cat wrinkled his nose, "A moment could not come soon enough, the air up here is…distasteful."

Lister shook his head, "First things first guys, we need to find someone who can help us with getting Kryten… with Kryten."

Guglielmo frowned, "Your robot is malfunctioning?"

"Whoa whoa whoa man, he's not my robot. He ain't nobody's robot."

"Actually sir, I'm a mechanoid. It is a common misconception. I actually have organic components in my brain that- "

"There are no parts dealers in port."

Lister raised an eyebrow, "There must be hundreds of traders around here, I'm sure that one of them will be able to take a look at him -"

"There is no one here who has the technology compatible with your hardware. Believe me Mr. – Lister was it? I make it my business to know what is going on around here."

Lister squared up to him as best he could, being a foot shorter meant he didn't cut as intimidating a figure as he hoped, "Well, Mr – Goo Elmo? Our friend here needs help and if there is no one here who can pop open his head and take a rummage about we'll be on our way. Come on Krissie"

But Kochanski was off. She had wandered towards a group of garishly dressed cow-headed Gelfs with four arms juggling flaming batons between them. Her mouth was moving but Lister couldn't hear, having walked a few metres away her words were lost in the silence that emanated out from the cube.

Lister spun back to Guglielmo and tried to thrust a quivering finger into his chest. The Italian looked on with disgust as the digit went through him. Only a bit shaken Lister pressed on, "Listen pal, you watch yourself around Krissie, yeah? She doesn't need no greasy fella schmoozing up to her with his big shiny uniform and his … hair."

Guglielmo only bristled for a moment. A smile was pasted across his face as Kochanski ran up to him and grabbed on to his arm,

"This place is amazing, so many strange new sights and sounds."

Guglielmo's smile broadened and he began to slide an arm around her shoulders, "Indeed there is. Let us now enter Haven itself. Miss Kochanski, Mr Cat; please join me."

Kochanski frowned, "We're all going in together, surely?"

"Alas, _Bella_ that is not possible. The constructs cannot enter."

Kochanski slipped out from under Guglielmo's arm and stepped back; "The _what_? Lister and Kryten are half of our crew. Why can't we all just stay together?"

"I am afraid the law is very clear, very old and completely unchangeable; no artificial can enter Haven."

Kochanski stepped away to stand alongside Kryten and Lister, "Then we shall stay above ground. We shall conclude our business on the surface and be out of your way."

Guglielmo spread his arms wide and looked imploringly at Kochanski, his eyes never leaving her face. "I am so sorry you feel this way. I wished only to show you my home. It does not matter. You can of course come and go as you-"

There was the wail of a siren, cutting through the blanket of silence that came from the cube. At the sound of it the customers and traders in the market began to gather up goods and run, the mechanoids heading into the hovels around the market circle while the Gelfs ran toward the cube.

"I am so sorry but we can no longer argue; Miss Kochanski, Mr Cat you must come with me now. It is most important." Guglielmo reached out to grab Kochanski's hand and drew her toward him.

"What the smeg is going on?" Lister demanded, panic stricken eyes meeting Kochanski's.

The sky was darkening to an ugly purple. Loose strands of dirty yellow cloud was whipped into ragged streaks by fierce wind and smeared across the atmosphere. In the distance there was a rumble of thunder and a massive dull groan of sound.

"It is a storm. The dust that it blows is toxic to humans and to all but the hardiest of the Gelfs. We have to go in now to be safe."

Kochanski tried to look at Lister and Kryten through eyes squeezed shut, already the wind was picking up. "We can't just leave you guys up here. Maybe you should get back to the ship."

"I'm afraid we won't have time Ma'am. Not to worry, I'm sure myself and Mr Lister will be perfectly safe, please go with Mr Da Napoli. We shall meet up with you out here once the storm has cleared."

Lister smiled and gave Kochanski a thumb's up. "Go ahead; let us know what it's like when you get out."

As the three figures hurried toward the cube Lister felt his heart in his boots. He kept the smile on his face in case she looked back but he never saw if she did.

* * *

Inside the cube it was hot and close; the smell of ozone saturated the air. The bird like guards waved Guglielmo and his companions through and they entered the main tunnel. After the precision angles of the strange ceramic metal that made up the cube itself, the tunnel beneath was roughly dug with timber props holding up the roof and illuminated by strings of lights running on pegs along the ceiling. They descended down the rough timber steps set into the sloping corridor, heading deeper into the planetoid.

Once they were clear of the surface Guglielmo began to talk, his soft, melodious voice explaining how Haven operated on a day to day basis, the Avian Gelf tribe that guarded it and its history. Most of it went straight over Kochanski's head; the shock of everything at once meant it was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, stumbling blindly alongside the Italian and the Cat. Something he did say suddenly made her pay attention,

"A war?"

Guglielmo smiled, "_Si Bella_, we should be well away from the fighting but we must always be prepared. We are not in Gelf space but we are small and out of the way."

"Is it a war between the Gelfs?"

Guglielmo laughed, "No, no, no the Gelfs have been at peace for millennia. No, I'm afraid it is not a war of flesh but of circuits."

Kochanski frowned, "Surely mechanoids are programmed not to -"

"The Gelf call it the _Resh Mellok Sahk_, the closest translation I suppose is the Dance of Ghosts and Hunters. You walk with a ghost; the hunters are from a time before the Gelf. I'm afraid that that is why your… companions were not permitted to enter. The artificial can use any construct as a weapon and it is purely for safety that the Gelfs have decreed that Haven must not allow their kind within its walls"

"Holograms fighting a war? How can they–" She stopped as her attention was brought back to her surroundings.

Stretching out around the tunnel mouth was an immense underground cavern, naturally formed in the whiteish rock of the planetoid. In the void was built a city, a glorious rendition of the town above. The same blocky forms of the buildings on the surface were also down below but each unit here was elaborately decorated, some carved with Gelf tribal glyphs while others showed battle scenes of hairy Gelfs chasing tentacled Gelfs with spears. What looked suspiciously like late Victorian cast-iron gas lamps were arranged along a parade of stores and cafes complete with little round tables and plastic chairs set outside. The streets themselves were teeming, the noise here lost in the vast space above everyone's heads but overall there was less urgency and anger. The feel was casual; Gelfs they passed here did a lot of bowing to one another and business seemed to be largely done over trays of minty smelling tea and miniature pastries.

Guglielmo smiled at the expression on Kochanski and the Cat's faces as they drank in the atmosphere around them. "Magnificent, isn't it? Come, you shall stay with me for as long as you desire."

Kochanski looked uneasy, "Maybe we should head back to the surface. How long did you say that the storm will last?"

Guglielmo shook his head sadly, "I'm afraid it may be some time, maybe a day or more. I will arrange a messenger to inform us when it will be safe for us to emerge. Until then I would be honoured if you would join me for a late breakfast." He held out a hand for her to take.

Kochanski was still uncertain. She looked to the Cat for his input but he was gone, further up the road he was in deep discussion with a well-groomed Kinatowawi about a bolt of electric blue silk. The pang of guilt she felt at what had happened to Lister and Kryten was buried in the novelty and opportunity that was offered in the city around her. She half smiled as she took Guglielmo's hand and together they walked into the crowd.


	10. Chapter 10

Kochanski felt the warm buzz spread through her as the second glass of liquid gold wine hit home. It had been over three million years since she had had a good Shiraz and she didn't realise how much she had missed it till just that instant. Across the table from her, Guglielmo smiled and poured her another glass from the dust encrusted bottle.

They had spent the day going about the city, stopping off at stalls and being invited into the homes of some of the most outlandishly dressed and distinguished Gelfs. They had finally retired to the restaurant that Guglielmo owned and run with just the two of them sat in the warm gloom. The place was Haven in miniature, the moody darkness shading white pearlescent walls, hung paper lanterns casting a soft glow of candlelight. The furniture was old and heavy timber, stained dark with age and worn smooth from use. Every surface was softened; velvet and cotton, silk and satin in a blaze of colours. Throws and cushions were liberally draped on chairs and stools, tapestries on the walls and rugs on the floors. Lister would have hated it.

"I must say _Bella_, it is wonderful to talk and drink with another human after so long. As much as I adore the Gelf it is good to spend time with someone with the same number of eyes as you."

Kochanski smiled, his voice wrapping around her like a syrupy fog. "Surely there are others? I mean, you are here. Three million years from Earth there must be trillions of us, scattered across the stars."

He shook his head, his eyes fixed to his wine, "I am afraid not, _signorina._ In all my years of searching, there has just been you. The holograms are there - of course, they are always there - but living humans? They stopped making us a long time ago."

"But how come you are here? We…I was frozen in stasis. I was only revived this late because that was when the radiation had reduced enough that it was safe."

Guglielmo's eyes focused on hers. "Why here? I can only think that it must have been destiny. How else was I to be here to meet you?"

Kochanski laughed, noticing the glint in his eye through his earnest expression, "No, seriously."

Guglielmo grinned. "Why do you think I am not serious? Fate is drawing us together, can you not feel it? I search for decades and find no one but I wait here and you fall from the sky. _Il Mio Dio,_ there is no other explanation."

Kochanski flashed him the smile that made Lister fall in love with her and shook her head slightly. "You say you have travelled for decades but you barely look older than thirty. How old are you really?"

Guglielmo's jaw dropped and he placed a hand on his heart in a pantomime of shock, "Miss Kochanski, do you not know that it is rude to ask a man his age?"

"That is a right reserved for ladies. Come on, how come you have survived?"

Guglielmo topped up both of their glasses. Kochanski waited as he silently sipped at the wine before continuing. "I was made to survive. When humanity decided that the stars were there to be settled they created us: stronger, faster men who did not age. We were put into Arks filled with the tools to make civilisation and were sent across the cosmos. We were to prepare planets in suitable systems for human colonisation."

"The Space Corps started up the seeding programme? It was just in planning when we left Earth."

"_Si_, the seed ships went out and we were to pave the way for settlers." Guglielmo drained his glass.

"I'm guessing the settlers never turned up."

Guglielmo winced.

"What happened?"

The glint was gone from the Italian's eyes as his gaze cut into Kochanski's own, "_Resh Mellok Sahk. _We thought we would be out of the way but it was not enough. The Simulants were what we were not. Indestructible._"_

Kochanski poured the rest of the wine into his glass and he smiled gratefully as he picked it up. He raised it in a toast.

"To the fallen."

Her eyes filled with tears as they clinked glasses.

"To the fallen."

The two survivors drank together, alone in the dark.

* * *

The bustle from outside drifted in through the windows as Kochanski descended the thickly carpeted stairs into the empty restaurant. She was stepping carefully so that she didn't trip over the hem of her borrowed green kimono. Made for a Gelf several sizes larger than her, it was elaborately embroidered with winged lizards in gold and she had been assured that it was 'fit for a princess'.

A smile teased the corner of her mouth as she looked at the bar area, at the empty wine bottles and the two glasses.

Guglielmo came out from the kitchen, a glass of orange juice in hand which he handed to her. "_Bongiorno Bella_, I trust you slept well? I have word from the surface that the storm has cleared but there is still no sign of Mr. Cat."

"I'll go out and look for him. I want to get up to see how Dave and Kryten are doing."

The Italian pulled a face. "Before breakfast? No, I cannot allow you, what would my Mother say if she knew I had a guest that was not fed? _Madre Mia_ she would not let me sit for a month. Come, you are nothing but bones. Tell me, what will you have?"

Kochanski laughed as she followed him into the kitchen, "If you insist then it's been too long since I last had Eggs Benedict. But only because we have to protect your precious bottom."

Guglielmo arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Kochanski blushed, embarrassed. What the hell was wrong with her? Maybe the wine was still not fully out of her system.

She watched him as he spoke over his shoulder to her. He was throwing ingredients into a pan with a careless precision that spoke of long experience, making up a hollandaise sauce. As he cooked, his low murmuring voice describing the origin and uses of all the ingredients, she found her mind drifting. Here was a living man, charming, sophisticated and funny. As he dropped the eggs into a whirlpool of boiling water in one of the huge brass pans, she had to admit that he was easy on the eye as well. A thought suddenly came to her.

"What is your real name?"

Guglielmo smiled. "I am Guglielmo da Napoli. Why would I need another name?"

"Does it suit you though? Would you seduce Dorabella for the sake of a bet?"

Guglielmo beamed widely. "For all my life here I have heard of no one that knew of _Cossi fan Tutte_"

Kochanski smiled. "It is one of my least favourite operas but it is a classic."

Guglielmo began to plate up the breakfasts, "I wanted a new start, I needed a name and it was one I felt I could live up to. Of course, the only woman for him is Fiordiligi; his interest in Dorabella is strictly platonic."

She laughed as he handed over her plate. They ate in the kitchen, the smell of herbs surrounding her. She had missed this. A mining ship designed to travel through deep space was not a place where domesticity bred. She had grown up in virtual reality, the only times she was truly home was during summer holidays. She would be sat on a stool in the corner of the kitchen while Mother directed the help in making up the huge platters of food for her fabulous luncheons.

"_Bella_, I must ask, what do you plan to do?"

Kochanski sighed, "Our priority is to get Kryten fixed. The storm has passed now so I guess we should head across to a settlement near here that will be able to help us repair him."

Guglielmo put down his cutlery and fixed her with his glare, "What will you do then? After it is repaired what use will it be? What will you do after?"

"Firstly, Kryten is not an appliance, he is one of our crew. And secondly, I – we haven't decided what we will do after…" Kochanski trailed off.

Guglielmo looked off into the middle distance for a moment, lost in thought. Abruptly he snapped back to the present, fixed his gaze on Kochanski's and laid a hand on hers. "This Kryten is important to you I see. Come it – he will be repaired. I will make this happen, you don't worry. There is one I can call upon to help in this situation. He will come, you can rest here with me and he will do what needs to be done. No need for any dangerous voyage for you and I will continue to have the pleasure of your company."

"What, it's as simple as that? I thought that there was no one here who could fix him."

"There is not. The Gelf Council of Haven will tolerate only the most basic of mechanoids. The scars of the war run deep and are not easily forgotten. The man I speak of is… tolerated."

Kochanski's eyebrow raised, "A man?"

Guglielmo smiled, "In a manner of speaking."

What he would have said next was lost as a blur of green dropped from the ceiling and landed in a rustle of silks. The figure stood, splendid in a thick thread-of-gold encrusted red Matador's jacket, tight fitting green trousers and flowing green silk cape. The Cat had arrived for breakfast.

"Good morrow, my good Monkeys. Feed me."

Guglielmo chuckled and led the feline into the kitchen. Kochanski watched him go, a small smile creeping across her face.

* * *

Lister was twirling the hologrammatic pen in his fingers, his gaze fixed on a small patch of dirt between his boots. He was sat in the dust, his back leaning against the crumbling wall of a rough mud building as the trio approached. His head snapped up at the sound of her laugh, and he had scrambled to his feet by the time that Guglielmo, Cat and Kochanski had reached the doorway of the building.

"Hey guys, I'd wait a sec before going in. I think they need another minute."

Kochanski saw his broad grin and mirrored it with one of her own. The moment of shared joy at seeing each other again was broken by the creaking groan of the door as Guglielmo forced it open.

"Smeggin' Hell!"

Kochanski and the Cat could just watch as Guglielmo strode in followed by Lister grasping ineffectually at his arm. They looked at each other and shrugged before following the men in.

Inside the low hut was murky darkness filled with a low hum of noise. As her eyes adjusted she could see huddled forms and pinpricks of lights from the exposed circuits and interface ports of a crowd of mechanoids. Sitting on all manner of chairs, barrels and boxes, they were all sat facing the opposite end of the room where a single figure stood. Kryten.

Guglielmo was leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, an irate Lister whispering into his face with a look of murderous rage. Kochanski felt hugely uncomfortable all of a sudden, the unmistakeable feeling of walking in somewhere where she was not welcome rushing over her in a wave. The silent forms of the mechanoids had the air of anticipation about them as they stared fixedly at the nervous Kryten, who was shifting uncomfortably. The longer the silence dragged on the more she realised it was not the mechanoids' scrutiny that was bringing on the mortification on his plastic face but _her_ scrutiny. He was embarrassed by her being there.

"Are we finished here?"

The Italian's voice cut through the darkness and snapped everyone out of the awkward stupor that had descended.

Lowering his gaze, Kryten nodded. "Yes, sir."

Lister turned to look at the mechanoid, the concern on his face frightening Kochanski with its intensity.

"You sure Krytes? You don't have to do nothin' if you don't want to"

Kryten smiled broadly and shook his head. "I am finished here."

Turning to the mechanoids gathered he gave a quick bow.

"Work well, my brothers."

From their seats the mechanoids bowed their heads in return, "We shall work well," intoned from voice units across the room.

Kryten stepped through the crowd and exited the hut, the eyes of the mechanicals never leaving him as he walked through. The others followed him out, Kochanski catching up with Lister before they reached the door and whispering to him.

"What the hell was that all about?"

Lister rounded on her, his eyes shining; rage warring with melancholy in the dark irises. "Faith."

He stormed out before Kochanski could reply, leaving her to stalk after him.

Outside it was exactly like she thought it would be - the Cat was brushing his hair, Kryten was looking around with a look of quiet contentment and Guglielmo was aloofly trying to ignore the bristling Lister who was even now trying to shout at him.

"What the smeg are you playing at? You couldn't have given us five minutes? What the smeg is so important that you had to bust in there with your – "

"I have arranged for someone to come to repair the droid. He is due to arrive any moment."

Lister rounded on Kochanski. "What the smeg happened to 'There are no traders who can help you'? And when was this decided? The storm's been over for ages and there's been nothin' from you. Anything could have happened to you guys. You could have fallen into an underground crevasse or been eaten by giant cave slugs for all I heard from you."

It hurt Kochanski to see him so upset and she felt herself choking up as she replied.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Dave. We were ….delayed coming up. We sent messages that we were ok and that everything would be sorted in a few days."

Lister turned and glared daggers at Guglielmo. "Yeah, great comfort that was. Some Gelf sneezed something on me and, funnily enough, I didn't quite get that message. I almost got myself battered by those bird guys when I tried to find out what the smeg was going on by asking."

"My fault entirely and I apologise intensely." Guglielmo bowed his head but his smile never changed. "I was unaware that your droid could not translate the Gelf languages."

Kryten look of shame was expressed across every inch of his square face. "I am so sorry sir, I have been at fault and I must apologise whole heartedly. Naturally I will terminate myself and relieve you of the burden of my stupidity."

Kochanski grabbed his arm. "Don't be stupid, Kryten. We'll sort you out soon."

Kryten looked only slightly better but at least he had stopped looking for something to kill himself with.

The Cat looked up suddenly, on tip-toes and alert. A few moments later, the rest of the party heard the ominous rumbling drone. It started low and grew rapidly to a high pitched shriek as a silver disc shot across the sky, the backwash of its thrusters kicking up dust. As they watched, a cluster of specks detached from the disc and hurtled toward the ground, triggering alarms across the settlement. Avian guards came running, their staffs crackling with arcs of electric energy but were waved away by Guglielmo. There was a group of thumps as a number of crates impacted into the dirt, spraying clouds of earth. There was a roar of noise and the largest speck was revealed, landing in a delicate spray of dust.

The figure strode towards the Dwarfers, the smell of jet fuel coming off him in waves. Dressed in bright red motorcycle leathers he stood easily at six and a half feet tall. He lowered his jet-  
pack to the floor and pulled his helmet from his head.

"Holy smeg…."

The others all looked at Lister who looked like he had seen a ghost.

Guglielmo strode forward and shook hands with the massive figure. He turned to the others, one arm around the shoulders of the man next to him.

"This man will help your Kryten. May I introduce – "

"Jim Bexley Speed," finished Lister.


	11. Chapter 11

His laugh was like warm caramel, rich and smooth. The huge man flashed a grin of brilliant ivory white teeth and offered his hand to the startled Lister. Confusion crossed Lister's features.

"It's alright, bruv. I ain't going to bite you or nothin' "

Lister smiled apologetically and shrugged. Jim's grin broadened as he stepped forward and grabbed the hologram, drawing him into a bear hug.

Kochanski's mouth fell open and she was half stepping forward when Guglielmo took her hand, holding her back.

Once he was released, Lister looked up teary eyed at his hero. Jim smiled down at him.

"How…" Lister began.

"It's a close range energy replicating emitter holofield, innit?"

Lister continued to look at Jim in dull incomprehension.

"The reason I can grab you like my brother from another mother. I deal with you holograms all the time. Trust me, we is going to be in proper business, no mistake."

"I mean, you're Jim Bexley Speed. How come you survived and you're all the way - "

Jim laughed again and stepped back. Like a conjurer performing, he pulled up the sleeve of his red leather jumpsuit. There was a jet of icy air released, a refrigeration system built into his suit pumping out cool air as its seal against the outside world was opened. Jim rolled back the sleeve, revealing his arm. The first few inches of flesh above his hands were composed of mahogany dark skin with defined musculature and minute pores. Above that, however, was an exposed metallic endoskeleton. A system of wires and steel cords pulled an elaborate armature system that was revealed from his wrist to above his elbow.

"Wax, my friend. Pretty on the eye but it don't like burning jet fuel. Melted the arm because I was being a tosser; swooped in on a Gelf trading party to show off. Hell of an entrance though."

Guglielmo coughed pointedly. Jim snapped out of his reverie and turned to face the Italian.

"Hey, Gugs! What's happening man? I ain't seen you in years. How's it all going? Still pretending you don't run this place? Come here."

Guglielmo accepted the hug from Jim stiffly, his arms still rigid by his sides. Kochanski's eyes met his and she smiled at the discomfort in his eyes. Jim laughed as he crushed the Italian to his chest, the whirr of gears audible to the group around him. He released him and laughed again as Guglielmo rubbed at his ribs.

"Thank you for coming so promptly. You know I would not ask you normally but the circumstances were –"

"Circumstances? C'mon Gugs, you don't need an excuse if you want to see me. Just give me a tinkle."

He held up his hand to the side of his head in mime of a phone and Kochanski laughed at the absurdity of that gesture, long died out and only seen in historical documentaries.

Jim seemed to suddenly notice her and a slow, sly smile crept across his face.

"What do we have here? You alright darling? Fancy meeting another of you lot out here, and such a pretty one you are too, aren't you sweets?"

He held out a hand and Kochanski shook it warily.

"Don't worry darlin', it's like I told the chief here, I don't bite. You ain't my type"

The Cat looked Jim straight in the eye and he acknowledged the stare with a curt nod.

"Charmed"

The Cat inclined his head briefly and Jim looked to Kryten.

"So you're the reason I'm here. 4000 series, not bad nick considering, nanos seem to be working cos the bodywork ain't too shabby so's I'm guessing you're a software overhaul, right?"

Kryten looked awkward but managed to stutter, "So I am given to understand, sir"

"Don't 'Sir' me mate, I'm not your Dad. Me and my boys will look you over and sort you out, no mistake."

As he spoke there was the sounds of metallic slides crunching, pistons hissing and the boxes that had crashed down with Jim unfolded their spider-legged spindly chassis and stalked to his side. At three feet tall they were larger than the skutters back on Red Dwarf but the fact that they were related models was obvious in their heads, three fingered rubberised mechanical claws with sensor modules like a red eye mounted above.

Guglielmo looked uneasily at the mark II skutters and nervously coughed,

"It is a pleasure as always James but I must bid you adieu. I want your best work on Miss Kochanski's – on Kryten. Ask me if you require anything at all. Please, your finest work, with all speed."

Jim smiled slowly, "It's always my best work with you, boss."

"_Bene, Graci_."

Guglielmo held Kochanski's arm and began to pull her away but she laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him where he was.

"I should see what's happening with Kryten, I want to make sure he's OK."

Jim was already commandeering one of the abandoned dwellings nearby, his skutters sweeping dust vigorously out of the door while he chatted with Lister, a polite and attentive Kryten watching proceedings. The Cat standing next to Kochanski let out an elaborate yawn, making clear his review of the situation and began to slink off toward the expanding market around the Cube.

"Worry not _Bella, _Speed is the finest mechanic I have met in my long years. He will restore your companion in fine order. Besides, your hologrammatic friend is attending. Come, we will head below and attend to _Signora_ Kwelhelfhagachachach of Theta 8. She is a fine cook and her parties are always –"

He trailed off as he could see Kochanski was not hearing a word of it.

"Tell me _Bella_, what do you wish to do now? What is it you want?"

She looked into his eyes and sighed,

"Honestly? I have no idea."

* * *

It started slowly, little glitches that she didn't think worth mentioning. When she would visit the 'boys' on the surface, Lister, Kryten and Jim, she would notice that Lister would have periods of translucency, desaturation and static across his digital image. Jim did what he could but without a direct connection to the hologram projection suite back on Red Dwarf there was not much he could do. It was probably interference caused by the storms that regularly tore their way across the planetoid.

The work on Kryten was horrendously complicated. It could have been a lot easier; a complete software wipe and reset to factory settings was possible and if necessary his ram chips could have been replaced to prevent any recurrence of the dangerous aspects of his personality. They couldn't do that to Kryten for two good reasons. Firstly, crazy as he was, his personality was what made him a part of the crew. The second and most important reason was that as much as he tried to deny it, he understood how the Nova 5 operated. They needed his knowledge of access codes and the workings of the drive. Without them the ship was just a pretty plastic and steel art installation.

Kochanski sat in on a few of the repairs, long and tedious sessions of fiddling with the circuitry in Kryten's head or chest cavity and then turning him on and asking long lists of obscure questions; logic puzzles and requests for information. Physically he was in fine condition, his nanobots had repaired and maintained every bit of wire and plastic to factory-newness alongside the organic elements of his brain that Jim and Dave didn't go anywhere near. But each day there would be more and more setbacks as they dug deeper into Kryten's sub-routines, finding thousands of processing irregularities. Almost every decision went through a massively over amplified guilt chip, crippling him with indecision. His ability to interact in conversations was severely reduced caused in no small part by millions of years of conversations with only himself to offer responses. He had forgotten how to make a macchiato.

With patient rewiring, programming and no small amount of shouting inventive 23rd century curses, progress was being made. Kochanski felt pointless at her visits, not understanding what was going on.

What surprised her most was that Dave was in his element. From not giving a rodent's behind to the complexities of locomotion mechanics, artificial intelligence programming and logic engineering he was having enthusiastic and colourful debates with Jim about the organisation of high volume data streams. She could only fix her 'politely interested' face when Dave would report to her any new breakthroughs with Kryten's repair, his chipmunk smile wide and his eyes aglow.

Meanwhile Kochanski was starting a life underground. She learnt of the Gelfs, their tribes and customs, their factional differences in Haven and amongst the various species. Her languages stood her in good stead, she learned how to say "I am honoured to be here" in Brefewino, "Grace upon your household" in Blerion and "For the love of all that is holy, I will have none of the moonshine" in Kinitawowi.

Haven had the feel of the colonial lifestyle long gone on Earth, the Gelfs of Haven were those that were wealthy and well established enough to survive outside of the trade routes. They were the ones that had retired from lives of trade, combat or flights from worlds raided by any one of the myriad threats that operated in deep space. No longer did they need to deal with Pirates, GELF war-bands or one of the big two; Simulants and Holograms.

Kochanski learned more of _Resh Mellok Sahk, _the great war that had engulfed this area of space. Holograms were the closest to humans that were left and took it upon themselves to eradicate the menace their race had tried to destroy millennia earlier. The Simulants had gained an appetite for inflicting a slow and agonising death to humans that could live forever. The war was long, brutal and was fought between near immortal beings across vast regions of space. Battles were often fought directly, holoships using highly directed energy beams and ship-sized holowhips to cut apart the decrepit reconditioned hulk ships of the simulants. The simulants attacked the hologram power sources in retaliation, huge satellite solar collectors around supernovas that beamed energy directly via super-light tachyons to power the holoships. Proxy wars were fought, enslaved Gelfs on both sides would fight to pointless deaths beneath the notice of their callous masters. It had been going on for as long as all the Gelf tribes could remember and showed no signs of abating. In Haven it was all history and wounded Kinitawowi veterans of Gelf wars would brood and drink their memories away in the corners of speakeasies in back alleys all over the town.

The Cat noticed none of this, involving himself with the frivolous, rich and bored Gelf high-society. He loved every second, Kochanski barely saw him one day in three. He flitted from party to luncheon, received gifts of clothes and fabrics and was _the _guest to have at any occasion. With his manners and sense of fashion, not to mention good looks that appealed to the ladies of a number of species, he dined out on his novelty and fantastic stories of hunts through the cargo decks for cravats.

Kochanski herself recuperated. The long hours of toil to salvage the Nova 5 had taken their toll and she had arrived at Haven at the end of her tether. In Guglielmo's restaurant she would sit in a corner in a nest of cushions and blankets and read through the Italian's library or lose herself in long conversations with him and the eminent Gelfs of the settlement. It was a life she had been born to lead, cyber school had trained her well in manners and deportment, she could hold intelligent conversations about the perils of navigating asteroid fields and although anecdotes about the academy were mostly lost on Bwerforino trade barons they still managed to laugh in the right places.

It was all going so well. She should have known that it would take a man to screw it up. She was half right.

It took two of them.

* * *

"For smeg's sake, just let me see her!"

Eyes blazing, Lister stared into the huge golden eyes in front of him, half obscured by the arcing miniature lightning that hummed between the shock staff's prongs. Kochanski could see even from where she was halfway down the entrance tunnel that he was dangerously close to getting a full dose of the staff's electrical field in the face, heavily disrupting his projection field. Dropping the bag of apples she had been carrying she grumbled as she picked up her skirts and started running forward. Why did men always have to pick a fight with everyone who …

As she got closer and Lister's eyes locked on hers, all thoughts of dressing him down over his attitude was lost in his wide eyed panic. The guard seeing her approach lowered the shock staff and inclined his head before stepping back, allowing her on to the entrance platform of the cube.

"What's going on Lister?"

He was looking over her shoulder so hard she turned as well but seeing nothing but the guards she looked back

"What's this about? Master Gwelock practically shoved me up here saying you had threatened to force his mechanoids to stop their fieldwork if he didn't..."

"Where's Mr Winebar?"

"If you're talking about Guglielmo, I haven't seen him since breakfast. And I don't see why you have to be so..."

"Grab the Cat and come back to the Bug, we have to get Hol to..."

Lister suddenly doubled over, grimacing. His image started to blur at the edges and a high pitched whine at the edge of hearing keened from somewhere inside him. Kochanski felt a long, thin hand with too many joints gently but firmly pull her back as the shock staff lowered between her and Lister. It lasted for about five seconds and Lister was straightening out, face still contorted but a weak grin on his face for the benefit of the two Avians eyeing him with predatory interest, ready to stab a few thousand volts into his light bee if he did anything remotely suspicious.

"Lister, I'm not budging an inch till I know what's going on. If it was so important why not get one of the guards to send a message or..."

A shimmer of static darted across Lister's whole body, grey lines chasing black running from his boots to his hair, fizzes of electrical discharge and crackles of white noise breaking into his speech, "Jim and Kryten are gone...out the whole damn...Mechs don't know...hours ago, but if we can..."

Kochanski tried to follow the flow but beyond the vague thrust of what Lister was saying it made no more sense than the plot of an episode of St Elsewhere. There were other settlements on the planetoid it was true, though all of them were less significant than Haven and Jim could easily have just been taking Kryten to get some parts that he suddenly realised he needed to repair him or maybe Lister's projection problems could be disrupting his short term memory.

Every innocent scenario she came up with though she rejected as soon as it occurred. It was obvious what had happened. Jim had learned about the Nova 5. She had been in Haven only a short time but she had spent a lot of it with GELF traders, she knew the value of a ship that could travel interstellar and the Nova 5's ingenious drive system would be worth fighting a war over, especially if it could be pulled out and put into a cargo hauler. Or a gunship. That's why he had also taken Kryten, Jim had the know-how to tease out any clues to access codes that the mechanoid had squirrelled away in the mess he used as a mind. Once those were used he could sell the ship to any number of rival factions, GELFs, Simulants or even Holograms in a more volatile part of space.

Kochanski was turning to the guard and began her rough Avian click-whistle request to send someone to fetch the Cat when she spotted him stalking up the tunnel, Guglielmo by his side.

As soon as Lister saw the Italian he started forward, narrowly stopping before getting a brutal reminder to not enter where he was not welcome, reigning himself to glaring malevolently and clenching and unclenching his fists.

"_Bella, _what troubles you? I hear word that your crew member is agitated and threatened an honest trader with industrial sabotage. I will do what I can but such threats will not be taken lightly by the GELF council and I am afraid his rash behaviour could cause significant..."

"Where did he take Kry...greasy bast...I'll take your damn shoes and sh...till you taste polish when you..."

Lister's tirade, spoiled by the effect of being as clearly displayed as a TV in a cheap Spanish hotel, nevertheless caused Guglielmo to stand dangerously rigid, a hand wavering near his hip. Kochanski decided to step in before anybody said anything fatally stupid.

"Jim has gone, Guglielmo, and Kryten with him. Do you have any way of contacting him so that we can negotiate for his return?"

Both Lister and Guglielmo spared a moment from glaring at one another to stare at her. Then both started at once,

"Krissie, this smegger's ... us up right... moment we landed. He's ... deep with Speed and …. won't get a ….. beat it out of him!"

"I am sure there has been some kind of misunderstanding, I will of course contact him and we will resolve this right away. Please leave all matters to me, I feel responsible for recommending him and will do all I can to ensure you have your mechanoid or a suitable replacement as soon as..."

"Stop it! Both of you! Guglielmo, please contact him and explain that we wish to discuss matters and try and arrange a meeting place. In case he doesn't respond, we will need to find out where he's gone. We'll head back to our craft and see if we can trace him. Please excuse us."

With the last words, she grabbed the Cat and started pulling him away towards the outside. He made a feeble yowl of protest before seeing her expression and sullenly skulking in her wake. Before she had gone more than a few paces, Guglielmo had caught up and was tugging on her sleeve.

"_Cara mia_, don't do this. Don't just walk out of my life. I have waited a thousand years for you and now you run from me for nothing but...Well, you are mistress of your own heart and I can deny you nothing. I beg of you to let me join you. Give me an hour to settle my affairs and I will travel with you, to wherever you go among the stars."

Kochanski realised her mouth was open and she shut it, hoping her hands weren't trembling. She stared into his piercing blue eyes, calm and entreating but with the weight of centuries on them. As she allowed herself to really look into that patient gaze for what felt like the first time, it was as if she felt her heart constrict in her chest, a fist of uncertainty knotting her stomach, she wasn't sure if she didn't gasp in shock. C_olpo di fulmine_, one of the most worn of all the clichés the Italians gave the world. The Thunderbolt that sends you sprawling in the face of the raw emotion elicited by just the look of another person, but she couldn't deny that she felt it now. Again.

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. The Cat looked on, nodding approval and storing mental notes. As Guglielmo smiled broadly and embraced her, it was Lister who she saw over his shoulder.

There was no rage, no tears. His look was shadowed, haunted. She felt her tears beginning to form even as he gave a half smile that didn't touch his eyes, the look he gave her fond but resigned to his fate.

She gripped Guglielmo hard and squeezed her eyes shut, letting a man who she couldn't trust smooth her hair and whisper endearments while she wept for the man she couldn't love.


End file.
